


I Knew You For A Day

by nanosorcerer



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternative Ending to Endgame, Big Brother Harley Keener, Big Brother Peter Parker, Doctor Dad, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame AU, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gayest part of this fic is the gay (or should I say bi) pining, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Dad, Iron Family, IronStrange, M/M, Non canon-complaint, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Pepperony but then Ironstrange, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Pining, Rhodes dealing with his idiot white boy, Stephen Strange Needs a Hug, Stephen Strange is shy af, Stephen saves Tony by giving him his life force after the snap, Supreme Family, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark has PTSD, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts - Freeform, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts at first, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family, Tony survives endgame, Wong dealing with his idiot white boy, Wong is a Good Bro (Marvel), spider son, supreme iron family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 10:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 338,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanosorcerer/pseuds/nanosorcerer
Summary: Endgame AU where Stephen is able to save Tony after he Snaps. Neither realize how their now shared life force will entwine them in more ways than one. Through Tony's recovery, he realizes the difference between who has always been there and who will always love him.





	1. Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> This all happens right after the Endgame battle.
> 
> This is the AU that I consider canon in my head. No, you can't convince me otherwise. 
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about big, tough Sorcerer Supreme Doctor Stephen Strange secretly pining over Tony Stark, in case you haven't noticed. I plan for this to be a full fic of Tony's recovery, his break up with Pepper, and blossoming Ironstrange

Stephen couldn’t remember when he had started pacing. 

Levi had taken to trailing him down the long hospital hall, back and forth, crossing the same tiles over and over. He must have been at it for a while, because when he finally noticed he was doing it, the cloak was hovering over a line of chairs, expectantly if nothing else. Whipping his head around, Stephen checked to see if anyone had noticed his pacing. The motion set his head to pounding, blood loss and lack of sleep making him feel queasy. He sat down in an effort to focus on soothing his rolling stomach, letting Levi settle on his shoulders for the first time since they’d entered the hospital via one of his gateways. Only a few moments passed before Stephen tapped at the cloak covering his shoulder, signalling for them to get off of him.

“It’s too hot”, he lied. The hall, and the entire hospital, he figured, had the air conditioning on full blast in a way that was unpleasantly cold, even in contrast to the muggy day outside. Stephen let a shiver race over him, to which Levi raised one side of their collar in disapproval, but the cloak obeyed reluctantly. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in that chair, in this hall. He tried to recount the events since the battle, calculating how many days had passed since, but his thoughts were blurred and muddled by emotions in a way they’d never been. He even tried consulting a calendar in the reception area, but quickly realized he had no idea what day the Undusting had happened. The Undusting. It was easier to think of the day as just that, since any thoughts of the battle sent him into a fit of hyperventilation and his cracked ribs couldn’t stand much more of that.

Despite the several battles he’d been in, Stephen was always shocked as to how shaken he was afterwards. This time was different, he supposed, what with being a battle for the entire earth and all. He recognized symptoms of shock within himself, like he could feel parts of his brain shutting down, but pushed through as more jarring thoughts fought for purchase on his mind.

Glassy eyes.

Jagged breath.

Blood dripping down a face that was supposed to be smiling, it was like sunshine when it smiled, though he’d only ever seen it pinched and distraught. In person, that is.

Stephen took a shaky breath as he leaned forward on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. One of the doors down the hall suddenly swung open and what looked like an assisting surgeon nodded as Stephen turned to look at him.

“He survived the surgery”, the Wakandan told him happily, but trying to maintain a professional and realistic front. “It should be uphill from here if things go as they should.”

“Thank you”, Stephen managed, remembering what was appropriate for humans to do in social situations, though it might have just been habit as his brain simultaneously spun and shut down. He wasn’t sure if the surgeon was compelled to tell anyone in the vicinity at the medical marvel they’d just accomplished, or maybe he thought Stephen was actually someone close to the patient, but he let it slide either way. His brain didn’t have the capacity at the moment to correct anyone on his relationship, or lack thereof, with Tony.

** _Tony._ **

Another wave of emotion hit Stephen as he thought the man’s name. He’d almost died, should have died based on the situation, but some foresight, okay a lot of foresight, on the sorcerer’s part had ensured the Wakandan hospital was ready to receive him. The man who’d taken the full, direct force of all six infinity stones. 

** _God. Why you?_ **

Keeping him alive long enough to get him off the ground, through the gateway, and into the surgery theatre had been one of the hardest parts and the most nerve-wracking 77 seconds of Stephen’s life. Using his life force to keep Tony alive, maintaining three different spells, and walking while doing so drained half of his energy within that time, leaving the sorcerer staggering as he gasped for air.

He’d quickly disengaged Tony’s suit, to Pepper’s anguished protest, removing the man from his would be nanotech coffin, and lifting him up in his arms with the aid of magic. He’d opened the gateway simultaneously, trying not to be distracted by how small and light Tony felt in his arms, how tiny, wheezing breaths were escaping him every few seconds. There had been a moment of eye contact between them and Stephen had felt his heart jolt as he laid him on the operation table, taking in the already glassy-looking brown eyes that should have been so full of light.

Stephen’s heart started again as he rose from the chair in the hall, mind racing with a thousand possibilities. 

**_Don’t be too hopeful_**, he told himself. There could still be complications from the surgery, or the amputation site could become infected, or maybe the experimental serum used to help reverse the effects of the gamma radiation would be unsuccessful. But even as these thoughts ran through his head, Stephen’s chest pounded in relief, shuddering breaths leaving him as he pushed down all the conflicting thoughts and emotions, closing his eyes and facing the ceiling in some sort of silent prayer. A wet sob threatened to leave his chest which he stifled quickly, sitting back down in the chair which he found again with shaking hands. 

Hours passed, or it could have been days when Stephen felt a gentle hand tap his shoulder. His head whirled around too quickly, making him see stars and black and his stomach threatened to upset what he hadn’t eaten. He was finally able to focus on Pepper standing in front of him, still in her armour under suit and a massive cardigan that definitely wasn’t hers. She gave him a soft smile as he squinted bewilderedly up at her.

“He’s awake again”, she said, like she couldn’t believe it, but was definitely willing to. “He wanted to see you.”

“Me?”, he blinked, not believing her. Tony had so many people he cared about, who cared about him, and seeing as he’d only gotten out of surgery a few hours ago (or had it been more than that?), he’d likely only seen a few people. Pepper smiled again, like it had been a silly question.

“Yeah, you. Come on, I’ll show you where his room is.” Stephen’s hands shook terribly as he followed her down the long hall he’d become familiar with, shoving them in his pockets almost angrily. His shoulders were shaking involuntarily (he couldn’t tell if it was from the overzealous AC or his body trying to force itself to stay alive) and he was relieved when Levi wrapped around him protectively. As they walked, Pepper explained some things to him, like how Tony couldn’t speak right now due to the effects of the gamma radiation and would probably need speech therapy. She told him about the amputation, and the burn marks, just to prepare him, though he already knew about those. Stephen’s mind struggled to actually hear her voice; whenever he relaxed his hold on her words, it sounded like they were under water.

They came to a door marked 17A and something in the back of Stephen’s mind told him it was ironic, but he couldn’t remember why.

“You can have ten minutes with him”, Pepper explained in a hushed voice with her hand on the doorknob. “He gets tired quickly.” Stephen nodded, even though there was something in her tone that made him hesitant, but he brushed past it as his heart pounded. Pepper opened the door and walked in, but Stephen found his feet cemented to the floor. He watched her walk to Tony’s bedside and tell him he had a visitor, and she’d be back in ten minutes with a nurse.

“Ten minutes”, she reminded the sorcerer again as she passed him in the doorway. Stephen told himself the edge to her voice was due to anxiety and worry for her husband. She left and he continued to hover in the doorway before making his way over to the right side of the bed, on Tony’s left side.

If Tony had seemed small and weak in his arms, the effect only increased tenfold as the sorcerer looked down at him in the hospital bed. He pulled a chair up to the edge of the bed, feeling too imposing when he was standing. Tony met with his eyes with a look that said he’d been waiting five years just to see his face again and Stephen’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to kiss him, and hug him, tell him how worried he had been, how much he loved him, but swallowed his tears instead. Stephen coughed gently, trying not to think about what those coffee brown eyes had looked like several hours ago. No, it must have been longer than that. 

“You look good”, Stephen said, surprised at how his voice croaked. “All things considered.” His words were sly, but his tone sounded like he was fighting tears. The left corner of Tony’s mouth twitched, as most of his face was encased in bandages and it made it hard to express much. The man’s eyes dropped to the drawing pad on his tented knees and brandished the Sharpie from its spot in the coils. Stephen noticed with an aching chest that Tony was forced to use his left hand, the right side of his body looking far too lonely, but Stephen did his best to ignore it. It took several minutes, but Tony finally tilted the pad towards him, looking at the sorcerer expectantly with his un-bandaged eye.

**You look like shit**, the pad told him after a moment of squinting at the chicken scratch and Stephen gave a half smile. He met Tony’s good eye and nodded in silent agreement. 

**_Well, I’ve been in this hospital for days worried sick about you_**, he wanted to say.

“Your writing looks like mine now”, he offered instead, voice raspy as he placed the drawing pad ever so gently on Tony’s lap. The other man lowered his brow marginally in feigned offence, though he winced after the motion, obviously having tugged at some stitches. Silence fell over them for a few minutes and, very aware of the clock ticking on the wall, Stephen felt a deep sense of urgency to say something profound, but everything that he wanted to say would either take too long or wasn’t appropriate. Tony seemed to sense his thought pattern and set to work with his Sharpie. Some of the most tense seconds of Stephen’s life ticked by as he waited for Tony to finish, wishing he knew the sorcery necessary to tap into Tony’s brain waves and talk to him via a mental link. When he was done, Tony mustered the strength to hold the drawing pad up facing the sorcerer.

**Why’d you do it?**

Stephen’s heart thudded traitorously in his chest as he read, not daring to meet Tony’s intense, but morphine-addled gaze. He couldn’t tell him about the futures he had seen, what he had seen of their relationship, of the life they could have had. He couldn’t tell him about mornings spent in bed after they’d both actually slept through the night for the first time in years. He couldn’t tell him about the morning coffee they’d shared, how they’d learned how to combine sorcery and technology to become the strongest duo in battle known to mankind, how they’d have gotten several cats and dogs as they got closer to retirement, and finally how they would have grown old together, sharing their twilight years in a certain cabin on a lake. 

“It’s my job”, he choked out, focusing on his fiddling hands. “Wouldn’t be much of a Sorcerer Supreme if I had let you…I’m glad I could help get you out of there”, he finished lamely, trying and failing to keep his tone professional. Tony regarded him for a moment and the sorcerer could see him resisting the tug of morphine trying to pull him under. Again, the Sharpie was dragged over the page slowly, painfully so, but Stephen watched every movement as if it were precious.

**What did you see in those other futures?**

Stephen tried not to sob, but one made it out of his throat just to be trapped under his teeth as he bit his bottom lip. Hard. He felt the hot trickle of blood run into his facial hair, but he didn’t pay it any heed.

“I, uh- can’t tell you that?”, he tried, even though he knew Tony wouldn’t accept that. “I saw what would happen, what would be our only chance, and saw that I had the chance to save you, so I took it. That’s…”, he cleared his throat and tasted the copper on his bottom lip. “That’s all that matters, really.” 

Tony didn’t believe him. He didn’t believe him and Stephen saw the betrayal in his good eye. He didn’t move for the pad again, but kept asking questions. Stephen could feel them, could see them in the deep ochre centre of his iris. Burning underneath, drug-induced sleep being pulled over the top. 

**_What aren’t you telling me?_**, the good eye asked. **_Why are you lying when you’ve obviously seen something important? Why am I important enough to you now for you to have risked your life to save me?_**

The questions faded as his good eye fell shut, and the clock ticked, and Pepper returned with a nurse as she said she would. Stephen quickly rose from his chair, hands shoved in his pockets, giving Pepper a polite smile as he turned to leave. Motion caught the corner of his eye, and he was met with sight of Tony struggling under the hold the morphine had on him, dragging the Sharpie across the pad diligently. Pepper picked up the drawing pad when he was finished, frowned in slight bewildered confusion when she read it, and held it up for Stephen to see.

**Thanks anyway, asshole.**

Stephen wasn’t sure anyone saw his teary smile in return, as both Pepper and the nurse had turned back to Tony who’d finally succumbed to the heavy pain medication. 

Stephen stumbled out the door, only staying upright thanks to Levi pulling him up by his shoulders. He let the door shut quietly behind him, slumping against the wall as his trembling legs nearly gave out on him. He considered seeing if he could get his wounds tended to here, looking down at the bloodied cuts drying black on his hands, but then decided he would heal better at the Sanctum. Tears dripped down his cheeks to land on his dusty robes, a sharp, wet sob finally escaping him. He almost allowed another, but Pepper opened the door suddenly, making him jump.

“Are you alright?”, she asked, brow creasing slightly as she studied him, scanning his tired, pale face. She took Stephen’s silent nod in turn, closing the door behind her and regarding him with a quiet smile. “Looks like you wore him out”, she joked lightly, though her eyes were tired and haunted. For not the first or last time in his life, Stephen wished people would be a little more honest in situations like these, bypassing the attempts at normality, washing over how truly terrible they felt. 

Pepper inhaled deeply, wringing her hands in front of herself as she mulled over her next words.

“I have to say…I’m beyond grateful for what you did.” Stephen’s breath hitched and he wondered for the fifth time that day if he was having a heart attack. He managed a nod and a grimace. Pepper swallowed before meeting his eyes.

“From what I’ve gathered, you're the only one who could have done what you did; the only one who was powerful enough. Though that still doesn’t explain why you did it.” Stephen was preparing a half-assed response when she continued. “And, Wong, was it…?” Stephen nodded. “Yeah, Wong said it was a near miracle you survived using your life force like that. You could have ‘gotten your dumb ass killed’”, she said, quoting the senior sorcerer.

“I’m still waiting for the day Wong approves of anything I do”, Stephen returned hollowly, hating himself for following along with her fake facade of half-hearted jokes. He tried desperately to ignore all that was sitting so physically in the air before them. It was like their discomfort and distrust of another had taken a physical form and was sitting on the cold tile between their feet. The redhead stared back at him like she could feel his tension.

“Still”, she insisted. “You almost died.”

“At least Tony would have been alive”, he muttered, not daring to look her in the eyes. Several beats of silence passed before he forced his head up and was taken aback when he saw Pepper’s mouth has dropped open slightly, faced screwed up quizzically, like he’d just declared himself suicidal. She brushed past her expression and the moment with visible great effort.

“Wong also said it was forbidden. To give another your life force.” This time Stephen had no problem with staring into the tired, grey blue depths of her eyes.

“Well, I obviously didn’t give it to him fully, or you’d be talking to a ghost”, Stephen rasped, gesturing weakly at his shattered self. This threw her off, and she tossed her hair over her shoulder quickly like an unconformable cat grooming itself. She toyed with the edge of her oversized cardigan, furthering cementing the comparison.

“Why?”, she begged suddenly. “Why’d you do it? Is there something I should know?; why a complete stranger would almost kill himself to save my husband’s life.” Something in her face changed, angered, as her cheeks coloured and she took a step towards him. “Did you keep him alive just so he can go and get himself killed later? Is that it?” Stephen met her eyes fully, feeling colder than ever, grateful for Levi around his shoulders to keep himself from shaking.

“No. I’ve already done that”, he said, broken and bitter. “Almost.” Pepper blinked, awkwardly looking away, her teeth gritted as she held this information between them. Stephen felt himself swaying on his feet, his head pounding, Levi keeping him standing more than his legs were. He really needed to get back to the Sanctum. The next words out of her mouth didn’t help his weak knees.

“Tony told me about the 14 million and something possibilities you saw?”, she said, more as a question than a statement, like she was pushing her cards onto the table, but wasn’t sure what doing so would bring. “You saw this one, you knew what was going to happen?” She was more sure now. This was a challenge. Stephen swallowed.

“It was the best possibility”, he lied. Okay, half-lied. It was mostly true. This was the future where the mad Titan was destroyed, the Dusted were returned to life, and he was able to save Tony. It was also the future where he and Tony wouldn’t see each other much after this hospital visit, though he hadn’t seen the end of it when Tony had jolted him out of his meditative state on Titan. The very thought was menial and selfish and made him sick to dwell on, how ungrateful he was after all the luck he’d had in successfully bringing this future about.

“What were some of the other possibilities?”, she asked, like she already knew, but didn’t want to know.

“We lost”, he replied simply. **_You lost_**, he could have continued. **_You died, your daughter never existed. Peter and I survived the snap, and so did all of the other important people in Tony’s life, so he was able to move on. We had a life together. We had each other._** The words ran through his mind, but his mouth stayed clamped shut as she watched him, like she was trying to read what was going on behind worn, glistening eyes. She was trying to decide if his tears were tears, or from exhaustion.

“I’m sorry for badgering you”, she said finally. “You must be exhausted.”

“I haven’t done much the past five years”, he quipped dejectedly, trying to will some life into his voice. “A little excitement did me some good.” Pepper offered a weak smile for his efforts and something switched in her eyes as she reached out to place a hand on his arm. Stephen wasn’t sure which side of her he wanted to trust yet, and felt himself involuntarily stiffen under the contact.

“Thank you, really. What you’ve done for me…”, she teared up suddenly. “And for Morgan…there’s no way we could ever thank you enough.” **_I didn’t do it for you_**, Stephen thought, forcing a smile. He went to pat her hand, but his trembling fingers just hovered. He tried not to choke as she continued.

“Whatever made you do it, what ever you saw in those futures, what ever made you risk your life to save him, I’m glad you did.” Stephen felt his heart hammering brokenly, with grief above all else and was struggling with what to say when the pounding in his ears mixed in with the pattering of little feet. He turned to see Morgan charging around the corner, running towards her mom with Peter in tow, tugging on his hand as though they had been siblings for life. The sorcerer felt his heart thump painfully as the teen who had been like a son to him in another life greeted him with a weak smile. The boy was worried to death for Tony, no doubt, and Stephen wondered if he’d gotten to visit him yet.

**_Have you seen your dad yet?_**, he almost asked out of dream-like habit, but bit his tongue.

“Hey”, he said softly instead, heart singing when brown eyes met his with a small spark of light.

“Hi, Doctor Strange”, the teen muttered, a shell of his former self, and unable to keep his eyes from flicking towards the door behind Pepper. Stephen didn’t blame him.

“Go right in, you two, just make sure to be quiet. Dad’s having a nap”, Pepper said, guiding them towards the door. “I’ll be right there.” The kids went in, Morgan giving Stephen a suspicious look as they passed. Stephen didn’t realize he’d been watching them go until he heard Pepper cough discreetly. He blinked back into present, looking at her as though wondering why she was there, which she looked past. She began to extend her hand and then stopped herself.

“A handshake seems a little formal”, she said. **_No. It seems just right_**, Stephen thought. **_Considering we don’t know each other. You know who I’d like to hug? Tony._**

He tried not to tense up as she pulled him into a careful hug, like she might be able to guess how much his ribcage felt like dry kindling in a fire. Their awkward embrace was cut off mercifully quickly when Levi patted Pepper’s shoulder and she jumped back in shock.

“Oh, God! Sorry, I didn’t know, um…” She gave the cloak a suspicious glance before jerking her thumb back toward the door. “I, uh, I better check on the kids.”

“Yeah, I should be heading back to the Sanctum”, he muttered, simultaneously ripping his own heart out. She gave him one last gentle, almost pitying smile, like she knew the kind of loneliness he’d be faced with back at the Sanctum, just rows after rows of ancient, dust-lined books, and a disgruntled colleague who was dutifully working his way through the nineties top hits.

The searing moment was broken as a whirlwind of long, dark hair and a purple t-shirt came tearing back out the door. Morgan’s eyes landed on Stephen and she bolted towards him.

“Doc!”, she called, though they had never met before this, Tony’s nickname for him obviously passed down in the past few moments.

“Morgan”, Pepper said, trying to call her back, but the little girl ignored her mother’s call. She bombarded Stephen’s legs at half-speed and Stephen was certain that, without Levi, she would have knocked him flat. Short, chubby arms wound their way around the back of his knees as she looked up at him, eyes sparkling dark and bright and all too familiar.

“Doc”, she repeated urgently in her small voice. “My Daddy said I should thank you. He said you saved him”, she said simply, and clearly expecting confirmation from him. Stephen swallowed the burs that had suddenly formed in his throat, keeping the wetness in his eyes at bay as he looked down at her.

“Er, yes. That’s…right-I.” He stopped and the words came. “It makes me very happy that I got to save your Dad. He’s a very good man.”

“I know”, Morgan agreed, absolutely entrenched in her response, brow lowered in a determined way Stephen had seen too many times. Over fourteen million times. She hugged his legs with surprising strength and he chanced a quivering hand on her shoulder, letting his fingertips ghost over the soft cotton of her t shirt in what he hoped was a comforting way.

“Make sure you give him lots of love, so he gets better soon, okay?”, he muttered, quietly enough that Pepper wouldn’t hear, finally letting the tears fall. **_The love I would have given him._** Morgan looked up quickly, enamoured with her new mission.

“Yep”, she confirmed. “I’ll give him lots of extra love. He’ll get all better.”

“Good girl”, he rasped. She released him, running back to take her mom’s hand, who Stephen didn’t raise his eyes to meet, and they walked into the hospital room with the life he wished he had. He raised his left hand with his sling ring somehow still on, trying not to think about all he would miss, everything he wished he could be there for: Tony’s therapy, his recovery, being there to comfort him during the bad days, and to celebrate the small victories when they came. 

Tears flowing freely down his face, Stephen began to move his right hand in a circular motion in an attempt to open a gateway to the Sanctum. His vision flickered and he felt his legs buckling before he could register what was happening, and the world went black.


	2. Defying Space and Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen wakes up in hospital and is surprised that he has a few visitors, including someone very important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make this really painful, all of Stephen’s visitors got dragged off or left the room before they were able to say something important they each wanted to tell him.
> 
> (Pls don't expect updates this regularly...I'm just on a roll rn...)

_Blood poured down Stephen’s face, out his eyes, blurring his vision in scarlet rivulets. It poured into his mouth and he choked, gagging on the all too familiar copper taste. A deep voice in the back of his mind spoke no words, but told him all hope was lost, it had all been a dream. Stephen thought he had saved Tony, that they could all have a happy ending, but he felt his very soul being torn in two as Tony lay exactly where he had fallen, broken and still. His eyes were glazed over, his mouth open, his last words just having brushed by his lips. Blood began to pour down his face too. It wasn’t coming from anywhere, but down it came, covering him, drowning him._

_“I think you’ll find my will greater than yours”, Thanos whispered, suddenly towering behind Stephen. “And his.”_

_._

_._

_._

“Strange. Strange, wake up. Stephen!”

Stephen gasped back into a concrete plane of reality, his lungs refusing to draw breath. He felt like he was being crushed. He opened his eyes and found himself blinded by white light, resorting to using his hands to feel about frantically. His shaking fingers banged roughly against a metal bed rail and he drew his hand back to his chest with a hiss. Suddenly, there was the rough, familiar fabric of a tunic beneath his other hand, and hands gently holding his shoulders back to the bed.

** _Bed?_ **

The last Stephen remembered, he’d been in the hall of the hospital with Morgan. No. She and Pepper had went back into Tony’s room while he had tried to open a gateway to the Sanctum.

** _Tony._ **

Stephen’s heart sobbed again, an almost comfortable feeling by now.

“You idiot”, a voice growled beside him. “Trying to open a gateway when you’ve just used your life force. The Ancient One had no idea when she said you would be great that you were also suicidal.” Stephen forced his eyes open, still squinting in all the bright whiteness of the room, turning his head to the right to see Wong sitting ramrod straight in a small metal chair.

“Wong?” His own voice surprised him. It sounded like it was coming from another person, someone much older. Also someone who was severely dehydrated.

“Who else would it be?”, the other sorcerer snapped dryly. “Foolish of me to think you’d be safe in a hospital. You still managed to wind up unconscious.” Stephen would have laughed if every inch of him wasn't on fire. He felt like he’d been flattened under a truck and then someone with half an instruction manual had tried to put him back together. Looked around slowly, he found himself in a hospital gown, in a private room, with all manner of medical equipment laid about. He noticed he was hooked up to several IVs, his forearm aching from where one had been inserted poorly.

“Same hospital?” he rasped weakly. Wong nodded.

“I’ve begun to repair some of the damage done to your life force. What I could, anyway. The Wakandan doctors have provided the best care otherwise.” Stephen tried to shift, but his ribs screamed in protest and he settled back on the sheets.

“How long was I out?”

“Two weeks”, Wong replied, unblinking. Stephen jolted, eyeing the other sorcerer to make sure this wasn’t one of his rare jokes. Panic gripped his heart.

** _Where’s Tony? Is he still here? Is he okay?_ **

“Stark’s fine”, Wong said, reading his mind, but not literally. “He’s in the same room that he was before. You seem to have been successful in saving him.” Stephen’s heart soared, not at the almost-praise he’d just gotten from Wong, but the knowledge that Tony was still alive.

“Couple of stubborn idiots, both of you”, Wong muttered while handing Stephen a cup of water. He reached out to take it, his arm burning in retaliation, but his terribly shaking hands wouldn’t even allow him to wrap his fingers around the styrofoam.

“I’ll get a nurse”, Wong said gruffly, and left, though Stephen was sure it was to avoid the uncomfortable situation more than anything. He had wanted more information on Tony, but it looked like that would have to wait for the time being. 

*****

The next thing Stephen knew, he was blinking awake again, probably knocked out by what ever pain medication they had him on. The room wasn’t so bright this time, which helped with his searing headache. He turned his head to the side to read the label on the drip bag. He sighed. Great, he was probably going to get addicted to morphine at this rate. There was a rustling noise to his right and he slowly turned his head back over, expecting Wong. Instead, he was faced with a wide-eyed teenager who looked apologetic just for being there, perched on the metal chair Wong had vacated.

“Sorry. I hope you don’t mind, I dimmed the lights a bit. The hospital lights are way too bright for my senses. You know, spider senses and everything…” Stephen smiled softly at the boy perched in the chair.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt my eyes this way.” He could tell Peter was thrown off by how small his voice sounded (so was he), but the teen didn’t let himself show it.

“How are you feeling? Sorry, dumb question.” Peter pointed to a small box on the nightstand and a small stuffed bear propped up against it, a purple ribbon tied around each. “I got you some chocolates. I didn’t know what you liked so… The bear’s from Morgan. She was so excited about getting it for you, I couldn’t tell her not to.” Stephen felt something warm and vibrating pool in his chest, a feeling that shot his nerves, but he reached out for the bear regardless. Hand shaking, he brought it back to rest on his chest, studying its small button eyes and cinnamon coloured fur, morphine clouding his vision.

“I like chocolate”, he muttered, giving Peter a sideways glance which had the boy hiding a smile as he looked at his feet. “And I’ll have to thank Morgan. Very thoughtful of both of you.” He sounded a hundred years old, and hated it, but Peter didn’t seem too affected by it anymore, beaming under the praise. He noticed the huge shadows under the seventeen-year-old’s eyes, how a worn grey hoodie absolutely dwarfed his slender frame, though that might have just been the way he liked to wear it.

“How are you doing, Peter?” The boy’s head shot up. He’d been asked this question a lot lately, but hadn’t been expecting it from the sorcerer laying in a hospital bed.

“Hanging in there. You know, I’m alright. A lot better than I would be if-.” He cut himself off too late. The tears pooled instantaneously, forcing him to bite his lip as he looked down at his hands. Stephen could see, with great effort, he made himself raise his head again, tears trickling down his face one by one as he met Stephen’s calm gaze.

“What you did-“, he choked, voice croaking a little. “I don’t know what I’d do…” He wiped his face viciously in his elbow and Stephen wished he could comfort him in some way: a pat on the shoulder, wiping his tears away, holding him.

“It’s alright”, he muttered, regarding the boy with his calm, green eyes.

“Thank you”, Peter mumbled wetly, forcing himself not to shut down. Stephen realized that, though in the moment he had done it for himself and Tony, he’d also done it for Peter. Saving the only father figure this boy had left, someone who had become so important to him. He really was just a boy; seventeen was so young and, more than anything, Stephen’s hands itched to hold him, like he had in millions of futures.

“It’s okay”, Stephen repeated. “Please don’t thank me. I care about him a lot, too.” The tears subsided a little and Peter’s brow pinched.

“I didn’t know you knew him before New York and Titan.” Stephen smiled, which made the stitches in his cheek pull.

“I didn’t. One day was enough.” Peter nodded quietly and seemed to accept this. Of course someone could learn to love Tony Stark in one day. He was past the hero complex, but Peter still revered the billionaire with something akin to guardian worship, though he did so in his own subtle, sweet way. 

This was why Stephen cared about this kid so much, why he and Peter had gotten along so well as father and son in almost ten million possibilities. He was good, kind, and accepting, he had so much love to give, never mind a genius intellect. Stephen was about to tell Peter something along these lines, that he was a good kid, at least, when a nurse came barging in.

“Doctor Mason wants to up your dosage, Mister Strange”, she said, beginning to fiddle with his morphine drip.

“It’s Doctor Strange”, Peter corrected before the sorcerer had the chance, what with his mind already being addled by so much morphine, and Stephen gave him a grateful half-grin which didn’t pull at his stitches. The nurse gave the teen a look before making a shooing motion with one hand.

“Alright, well, visiting hours are over now, young man.”

“We were still talking”, Stephen interjected, already fighting the heavy haze pulling him under.

“You need to rest”, the nurse replied patiently. “Doctor’s orders.”

*****

Stephen blinked awake into too bright lights once more, though he was immediately grateful that he couldn’t so acutely feel every part of his body anymore. He woke up a little more and wondered if that was a good thing after all, or just that they had him on enough morphine to knock out a horse. He looked to the chair to see who was in it this time, if anybody, and was surprised to find it gone. In its place was a one-armed billionaire in a wheelchair, watching him with fascination. Stephen tried not to jump in surprise, for the sake of his still aching body, his heart fluttering as Tony graced him with a half smile that was decidedly stronger on the left.

“For the love of Vishanti”, Stephen muttered good-naturedly under his breath, too giddy and in awe to say anything else. He was saved when Tony started to scratch diligently on his drawing pad, his black Sharpie replaced with a red one.

**Sleeping beauty**, the pad remarked sarcastically, with a sly smirk from the man who held it. Stephen’s hand flitted subconsciously to his own face. His beard and hair were overgrown and unbrushed, he knew his bruises would be an alarmingly bright shade of yellow at this point, and he hadn’t eaten anything solid in over two weeks (five years, if you wanted to be technical). Sleeping beauty, indeed.

“What are you doing here?”, Stephen asked suddenly, cheeks burning at the weak rasp of his own voice. He corrected his thoughts. “I mean, shouldn’t you be in bed?” Tony cocked his head slightly, gesturing down at himself with his arm. **_Obviously not_**, his face said. Stephen allowed himself a small huff of laughter.

“Not like you’re one to follow orders.” Tony raised a brow.

**_No doubt they had to chain you to that bed with litres of morphine_**, his grin said clearly.

“Touché”, Stephen rasped. He was overwhelmed for a moment, openly and unabashedly taking in the sight of the man he’d helped save. _His love._ Tears pricked the backs of his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. He ignored the empty spot under Tony’s right shoulder; that was fine, he’d make do with a run of the mill prosthetic until he upgraded his own. The entire right side of his head was still bandaged, eye covered and wrapped over his jaw, barely allowing him the freedom to smile properly. But he was smiling. Stephen let the happy tears slide down his cheeks, the salt making his stitches itch, but he didn’t care.

That one, big, brown eye looked back at him with something close to caring and that was all Stephen could have ever asked for. Sure, he was covered in bandages and burns and stitches and new scars, and he couldn’t talk, or walk, or smile properly right now, but all of that was okay because he was alive. Tony was alive. Looking shorter and smaller than ever in his electric wheelchair, but solid, and warm, and as real as the shaky breaths Stephen was drawing. 

Tearing himself from Stephen’s gaze, Tony began scribbling at his pad. He’d gotten quicker writing left-handed. He held the pad up expectantly and Stephen read it, still squinting under the bright lights, and wishing he had the reading glasses he was beginning to need.

**I’ve gone through three of these,** the pad said, referring to itself. Stephen huffed.

“You do like to talk a lot.” Tony’s jaw dropped in mock horror, before he remembered that hurt. Everything hurt right now. It was excruciating being off morphine for more than an hour, and he was on his third. Stephen noticed his wince of pain, felt crushingly guilty for a second, quickly washing it away before he brought his arm across his chest to tear out his own morphine drip.

“That’s the last thing I need”, Stephen said, holding it up before letting the loop drape over a hook on the stand, dialling the drip down until it came to a stop. “Becoming a pain killer addict.” That was part of the reason, but he was also doing it to make himself feel better. There was no way Tony was going to die, get brought back to life, and be off of morphine before him. 

Tony held the pad up rather suddenly.

**Had any visitors?**

Stephen smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Was that Tony’s subtle way of asking if Stephen had anyone who cared enough to come check up on him? Did he know how mind-numbingly lonely Stephen truly was? No, that was just his own self-deprecating mind speaking.

“Uh, Wong. And Peter came by. We had a nice talk.” He pointed at the untouched box on his nightstand. “Brought me chocolates, not that I’d be able to keep them down right now.”

**The bear?**

“Morgan. Yeah, Peter said she was all excited to get it for me.” He chuckled lightly, the back of his mind asking why; why would she care enough to do such a thing? “You’ve got good kids, Tony.” Tony ducked his head to hide the smile that widened on his face, and Stephen realized too late what he had said. In those futures, in many of those possibilities, Tony had made the adoption official, regardless of whether May was alive or not. Yet another thing Stephen had to be careful not to let slip into this realm of reality where no one could know what he’d seen. 

“How’s Pepper?”, Stephen asked, though the question tasted bitter and dry on his tongue. Tony looked a little surprised too, though he wasn’t sure why.

**Good. Home. Getting clothes and stuff.**

**_Home._** Tony was referring to the cabin, which made the word send a shivery jolt through Stephen that could only be explained like electricity, and it hurt just as much.

Stephen nodded, not really dwelling on the response, but storing it away regardless. He looked around the room quickly, bored by the white walls, momentarily thinking of how quick he’d be to get out of here under normal circumstances. But, right now, Tony was with him, watching him, no doubt. This was enough to pull Stephen’s mind back easily. He met Tony’s good eye again and felt himself soften, wishing he had the strength to pull him up on the bed without hurting him, to tuck into him and feel the solid physicality of him. He wanted to make sure he was really real. He pushed his unrealistic thoughts down and forced himself to ask the question he’d been avoiding, but needed to know, like he needed air.

“Uh, h-how are you doing? How’s your treatment? Do you - Pepper said you might need speech therapy.” Tony rolled his eye in a way that said, **_Obviously, asshole,_** but took to the drawing pad to embellish further regardless.

**Okay. Hurts. Can’t walk. Can’t talk. But I can hug my daughter.** He held it up, but then seemed to have a second thought and added more.

**Thanks to you.** Stephen was surprised by the tears which sprung to his eyes, out of frustration of all things.

“People need to stop thanking me”, he said, voice gravelly with the strain. “Pepper, Morgan, Peter, and now you. I can’t - any decent person would have done it if they could. Okay? I’m - I’m not special. Don’t thank me.” Tony’s brow furrowed in that way it did which was intimidating if you didn’t know him and endearing if you did. Stephen was stuck somewhere in the middle of the two. 

**That’s not true. Couldn’t have done it without you.**

Stephen wanted to kick himself, wanted to throw something, to scream and beg Tony to hate him, for him to understand what he had done. He’d set him up for slaughter and now here was this beautiful, broken, but strong and proud man, sitting in a wheelchair because of him, and thanking him for it. If Stephen had anything solid in his stomach, he would have thrown it up fully.

“Please”, he said, almost bitterly, except he knew his voice would never be able to hold any true malice while directed at Tony. “I know you could have. You’re a million times the man I am. You have no idea”, he almost sobbed, though the tears wouldn’t come.

The drawing pad took a beating as Tony scribbled furiously and Stephen saw a tear drip from the tip of his nose. When he held the pad up again, it was with a determined look that could level a house, eye glistening, jaw set, huffing slightly in his anger at having to write everything. And now his frustration with Stephen’s self-deprecating words.

**You almost died. There are four people in the world who would do that for me. I didn’t know you were one of them.**

“That doesn’t warrant any praise. You deserve-.” He stopped abruptly as Tony slammed his hand down on the arm of the wheelchair. He attempted to throw the drawing pad across the room in his frustration, but it was with his weakened body and left arm, so it only erupted in a flurry of pages before landing on the floor a few feet away.

**Fuck**, Tony mouthed, and used the joystick on his wheelchair to move forward. He leaned forward very slowly with great difficulty, a small wheeze leaving him before he straightened up just as slowly, backing the wheelchair up into its original position.

The look Tony gave him was heartbreaking, dark eye glistening, mouth set in a hard line as he gripped his Sharpie and looked back down at the pad in his lap. When he lifted the pad again, he stared Stephen directly in the eye at the same time.

**I’m not fucking praising you. I’m saying we’re friends now. So deal with it.**

Everything in Stephen’s chest turned and spun as his mind did the same. The farthest he had gotten to look into this possibility was up to the point he got Tony into the hospital. Everything after that was up to fate. He would have kept looking further, probably would have gone looking through possibilities until it killed him, but Tony had grabbed his arm just as he began to spiral, his touch bringing him back to a reality where kind eyes were looking at him with concern. He had told him it was alright, that he was back, had comforted him while the rest of them had hassled him for information immediately. He had looked at the man before him, with all of those possibilities in mind, knowing what was to come, and what he would have to do to him. The pain he would have to put him through. And while Stephen had figured he wouldn’t see him again after the battle, he figured saving Tony’s life had to be good enough for him.

Now here they were, in the selected best future Stephen had seen, and he was finally able to see how it would unravel.

Tony wanted them to be friends. What this meant yet, he wasn’t sure, but the red Sharpie bleeding into cheap card stock and spelling out that single word was the most beautiful thing Stephen had ever seen.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, still staring at the raised drawing pad, not knowing what else to say. It had been the wrong thing to say apparently, as Tony’s face screwed up as well as it could under thirty feet of bandages.

**Don’t be fucking sorry. Friends don’t apologize for no reason.**

**_If only you understood what I’ve done to you_**, Stephen thought. **_Then you’d hate me as you should_**. But he pushed these thoughts away because this reality was almost too good to be true and Tony was still here, putting up with him and his bullshit, almost shaking in his wheelchair as he waited for an appropriate response.

“Yeah. I guess I’ll be your friend, douchebag”, Stephen whispered, with too much affection infiltrating his shaking voice, but he couldn’t possibly suppress it any further. Tony’s almost relieved smile was like sunlight, looking down to write something else on his pad when there was a polite knock at the door. Rhodey peered into the room, relaxing visibly when he caught sight of Tony.

“So, this is where you rolled off to”, he smiled, opening the door fully and walking to the foot of the bed. “You should have told someone where you were going.” Tony rolled his good eye in response, but Stephen could hear the worry pinching Rhodey’s voice. He couldn’t imagine the stress this man had faced trying to keep Tony alive for so many years. The colonel seemed to properly notice Stephen and came around to the left side of the bed. He extended his hand and Stephen made himself take it, hoping the other man could look past his violent shaking and scars.

“Doctor Strange, I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“Colonel Rhodes, it’s a pleasure. And just Stephen is fine”, the sorcerer rasped, trying to maintain an ounce of professional composure as well as he could from a hospital bed. He smiled gently and the colonel returned it. **_We were already good friends in a different life_**, Stephen wished he could say. **_The three of us fighting together? Now that was something formidable_**.

“Yeah, call me Rhodey. That’s what everyone does, thanks to him”, he gestured at Tony, who smiled impishly. 

Stephen watched as the composed military man began to flounder in his own mind, glancing between him and Tony. The sorcerer could feel with impending dread what the colonel was working himself up to say and wished he could disappear. Their short standoff was interrupted by Tony slapping the drawing pad on the bed to gain their attention, holding it up at an angle so only Rhodey could see it. Confusion passed over the colonel’s face, then relief, before he turned to look at Stephen again. His hand reached out and wavered, before ending up patting his shin a little awkwardly.

“I’m glad everyone made it back okay”, he said finally, nodding once before walking around the end of the bed to come up behind Tony and grab the handles of his wheelchair. “Okay, whether you like it or not, it’s dinnertime, Tones. So, let’s go see if we can get you to keep anything real down.”

Tony looked absolutely peeved at being carted around like a small child, but didn’t protest any further than a scowl, because it was Rhodey, so it was okay. 

**See ya, wizard**, the pad said as Tony was wheeled out, giving Stephen a mock salute and a smile that was too soft.

“I’m sure he’ll find his way back in here later”, Rhodey said with a sly look that Stephen felt like he was supposed to understand, but didn’t. He caught Tony glancing over his shoulder at him as he was wheeled away and Stephen’s heart jumped. 

**_Don’t be stupid_**, he told himself. **_It doesn’t mean anything_**. But it meant everything. Tony had said he wanted them to be friends, at least. And whatever sort of small role that meant he would have in Tony’s life, he’d like to think it was enough for him.

**_It won’t truly be enough_**, the small voice said and Stephen knew it was right. He’d always have the memories of all those futures, forever taunting him with what could have been. He’d always be tormented by the selfish thoughts which made him want Tony to himself, wishing desperately that he could have been obligated to pull one of those timelines about instead. Sure, being Tony’s friend would put a band-aid on the marriage-sized gash he’d carry around with him for the rest of his days, but would he ever truly feel at rest with their relationship? The answer was no and Stephen despised himself for it.

**_He’s alive, why can’t that be enough for you?_**, the voice asked viciously. The tears streamed down and Stephen whispered to himself in the empty, too bright room.

“Because I love him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Tony will make Stephen feel appreciated if it kills him. (Too soon?)  
\- When Rhodey was talking with Stephen, Tony’s notepad said, “Don’t thank him.” He told Rhodey this because, although he wants Stephen to believe he should be thanked, he knows he's not ready to accept it at this point, and didn't want him to get upset and have to hide it in front of Rhodey.


	3. I'll Be There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's recovery from the Snap is going well as his and Stephen's friendship progresses, but a bad day in physiotherapy leads to Tony having a breakdown. Stephen is there for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since an update. Sorry about that. There was quite a bit of research I wanted to do for this chapter, and then real life grabbed me by the throat so yeah...
> 
> Don’t think I can base an entire chapter around a hug? You bet your ass I can.
> 
> A lot of familiarity is born between Tony and Stephen between this chapter and the last and I personally love it.
> 
> Guys, I have no idea if any of this is anywhere near medically accurate, okay? I’m not a doctor or a physiotherapist and it’s kind of hard to do research on a condition that is impossible to this degree in our world, you know? I did do a shit tonne of research, though, and I hope the beginning of Tony’s recovery at least makes a bit of sense and flows with the story.

Five more weeks passed in the hospital. 

Stephen didn’t have to be there anymore. In fact, Wong had convinced him home to the Sanctum a few times, but he could never stay there longer than a few nights. He was recovering steadily, but slowly, some parts of his soul and body healing faster than others. Surprisingly, his hands were the best they had been since his accident, though his chest, lungs, and all related systems were taking a beating. Wong told him to be especially careful of his heart. Stephen heeded his warning, perplexed by the crippling pain that gripped his chest periodically, though the tremors had little effect on his blood flow and overall health. His chest just ached. A deep, unexplainable ache, literally in that Wong wouldn’t tell him why exactly he was experiencing such pain.

Stephen used the weekly checkups as an excuse, as if the healers of Kamar Taj couldn’t give him all the medical help he could ever need, superior in some ways even to Wakandan medicine. He had given away part of his life force after all, Stephen reasoned with himself as he checked into his physio program at the Wakandan hospital. And peering into Tony’s hospital room to check up on his progress was nothing more than professional courtesy to the man who had saved the universe. He kept saying this to anyone who questioned it, but Wong didn’t buy it for a second. 

Their conversations continued, Stephen spending more and more time with the billionaire as he regained his strength. The drawing pad was used less and less as Tony progressed quickly, the shaky Sharpie being replaced more often with even shakier words. There were lapses in his mind; the genius was still there, but he sometimes had trouble connecting his thoughts with expressible words. This happened pretty rarely and was happening even less frequently as he worked almost daily with his speech therapist, determined to drop the drawing pad forever. More often, it was the mechanical connection that caused the most issues; a simple lapse in muscle control as Tony struggled to form words, coming out much slower and less eloquently than he was used to. This frustrated him to no end, though not so much as when he forgot a word. Luckily, both his ability to use the drawing pad and Stephen’s patience were endless as they’d mince along in a lurching game of charades until they came upon the correct word.

It wasn’t just Stephen, of course. Tony had no end of supportive friends, family, and other visitors which would be allowed time with him usually at Pepper, Happy, or Rhodey’s discretion. Stephen told himself he had no right to be experiencing the jealousy he felt when anyone else spent any length of time with Tony, especially considering he had the engineer to himself most afternoons. 

This was their physiotherapy time. One o’clock to four o’clock, six days a week was Tony’s allotted time for physical therapy, time spent alternating between the weight room, his mental stimulation exercises, and many other mild forms of physical exertion. Frequent breaks with water, snacks like fruit and granola, and Tony’s favourite smoothies were had; this was one of Stephen’s favourite times as it was when Tony was most inclined to pick the sorcerer’s brain. He’d spend several dedicated minutes drawing a tiny tidbit of information out of Stephen, who couldn’t decide if it was genuine caring or the thrill of a puzzle that drove him. He opened up slowly, there was no doubt, though he could tell from the quiet looks Tony gave him that he knew there was still a fairly stable wall up between them. And that was fine. Tony spent his time picking away at the forty two-year-old brick wall with a toothpick, his latest project if anything else, because he wouldn’t be working on suits of armour anytime soon.

Today was no different. The two had just finished a fiendishly green smoothie, Stephen contemplating the kale that was no doubt stuck in his teeth, while Tony set the bait for his latest side project.

“What’re you uh…” The word evaded him and Stephen could see the blank pause, followed by the satisfying click as it came. “Didn’t think I’d…see you h-here today.” A shiver trailed Stephen’s spine, but he ignored it as he climbed on a stationary bike, legs shaking.

“You know”, he drawled, though he knew Tony didn’t. “Slow day at the Sanctum. Wong didn’t need me, so I figured my time might be better spent here.”

“H-hanging out with a cripple with th-the vocabulary of…a three-year-old? S-sure, Strange.” Tony was joking about himself again, which was reassuring in itself only because it was familiar. His wry comments, often at others’ expense, the little pokes and jabs, meant that everything was relatively okay. When he was quiet was when everyone worried. 

He’d had a lot of bad days in the past seven weeks, sure, but that was to be expected after what he’d gone through. There was the obvious physical damage that was irreversible; there hadn’t been any successful limb regeneration attempts since Extremis, none that were safe, anyway. Tony’s Wakandan doctor, Doctor Baradii, had gently offered the option of surgically removing Tony’s now blind right eye, to be substituted with a mechanical replacement not so dissimilar to Thor’s, but he’d refused. Tony and Pepper had argued about it for nearly an hour afterwards; why would he sacrifice his sight for what, pride? Tony had stayed quiet for a long time, only letting up with an answer when Pepper desperately pulled Peter into the conversation, thinking the teen may have some rational affect on his mentor. Tony’s voice was husky and strained when he finally responded to the initial question.

“I can see…better now th-than I ever have”, he muttered, more clearly than he had in weeks. He looked Peter in the eyes with a quiet vulnerability which unnerved the teen, before he turned to Pepper with deadly resolve. “I don’t wanna l-loose that.”

With this decision came more mental clarity than anyone had thought possible so soon after the Snap. Stephen knew the capabilities of the brain just as well as any of the specialists in the hospital, and he was blown away by the progress Tony made, not only with his speech therapy, but with his mental exercises and conversation in general. None of his wit was gone.

Stephen was relieved. Some terrible, dark, selfish part of himself had been deathly worried that the Snap would have obliterated or at least partially affected Tony’s long term memory. How much might he remember from one day five years ago? The only day that Stephen had a hold on in Tony’s memories? The sorcerer had been grateful, shaking and trembling with relief, when Tony confirmed his ability to accurately recount what had happened on that day. Not that they talked about it more than once, though. Tony had lost them both; the intriguing, stoic, yet incredibly emotional wizard and the boy he’d come to see as a son. Of course, Stephen couldn’t ask if Tony had mourned him. That’s not something you do after coming back from the dead, is it? He liked to think he’d left a bit of an impression on the billionaire’s life, regretful that their time had ended as it had, a traumatic nightmare that Tony had relived in his sleep three times in the past week alone. Stephen liked to think that the little moments, clutching each other’s forearms desperately in support, had been more than just that. Did Tony ever think about it, or were they so far past their reckless, disastrous venture to Titan that Stephen was alone in reminiscing about it? 

*****

“Goddamnit!”

Stephen looked up from the stationary bike monitor at the loud clattering intermixed with Tony swearing. He’d been having a rough morning, mentally and physically, and apparently his afternoon wasn’t going to be much better. His usual round of daily physio started off with some mental warmups, sentence starters and speech therapy which he did one-on-one with his physiotherapist. Stephen usually wasn’t around for that; he gave Tony his space and privacy because he knew how frustrated he got when he struggled to hold control over his own words. After the speech exercises were some mild physical warmups, stuff Tony could do on his own now while Dr. Martins set up for his more intensive, and often painful exercises.

Tony’s warmup this morning was almost insultingly simple: It involved stacking and unstacking a simple block tower, matching the coloured blocks into their containers, and restacking them again. Usually, Tony would have done it within seconds, embarrassed, but willing to work hard at whatever was put in front of him. Today was a bad day, though. It was raining, the switch in barometric pressure affecting his coordination and nerves. His overly-sensitive hand shook, nerve ends frayed as he held the block out at arms’ length. Watching quietly and discreetly, Stephen knew the feeling all too well. He still couldn't quite lean his weight on his hands as he hunched over the stationary bike, using his forearms to support himself on the handles instead. Tony’s predicament was made even worse in that he was having to do these exercises with his non-dominant hand, the amputation site on his right shoulder still raw and bandaged heavily as it waited for its metal replacement. 

Stephen let himself glance up again, heart panging in pity before he swallowed the feeling down. No, that wouldn’t do. Tony could always tell when people were pitying him and he hated it. But the sorcerer found it difficult to keep his emotions in check. 

Such a simple task was made even more difficult with only one good eye as well, Tony’s blind right eye throwing his depth perception off the deep end. His hand wavered, setting the block down, but he overshot due to his remaining eye making the tower look farther away than it was. The blocks were sent crashing to the table and Tony growled his disgust, slurred swearing under his breath.

“Take a break if you need to”, Stephen suggested objectively. He wasn’t judging him, they both knew that, he was offering a voice of reason when Tony’s was often several hundred layers away from his grasp.

“Don’ need to”, Tony forced out, his anger tightening his throat, stressing the words and impeding them on their way out. Tony was embarrassed, not because Stephen noticed, but because there had been anything for Stephen _to_ notice. The fact alone that Tony, the man who had built his first circuit board at age four, a pioneer in the world of technology, a certified genius, couldn't complete a task his daughter could as a toddler was purely mortifying. 

His hand cramping coupled with his lack of depth perception made the exercise overtly difficult, but Tony persisted stubbornly. His speech therapy had continued to progress very well, and he had no trouble swearing when he knocked the small tower over again. Stephen dismounted the stationary bike as quickly and as gracefully as possible, which wasn’t very quick or graceful at all. He was still very weak from using his life force and had been at half strength ever since the battle; Wong didn’t show it, but he was worried about how long it was taking Stephen to recover. Magic could only do so much, but it was frankly concerning that Tony had improved more in the past weeks than the sorcerer had. 

Stephen padded across the gym mats in bare feet (he felt more at home like that) and went to the low chair Tony sat in, his wheelchair discarded in the corner of the room like a child in timeout.

“Take a break”, Stephen repeated again, because he knew that’s what Dr. Martins would have him do. Tony wasn’t dense, but these days it often took repeating something for him to grasp it fully and see the reasoning behind it. This often happened when he was being stubborn and too hard on himself. 

Tony shook his head silently, unable to find the words to express his frustration. His face said it all, though. He wanted help, but didn’t want to be any less than completely self-reliant, he wanted to be healthy again, but sometimes it was so hard to do everything he was required to get better, he wanted to complain sometimes, but didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the second chance he had been given, what Stephen had done for him, the sacrifice he had made. 

_You deserve it all, you’re worth it, you saved the universe_, he was reminded by many people again and again and again. He knew all that, and he hated those words now, because he didn’t believe them fully and they didn’t help him when he could barely hold a half full mug on his own, never mind pick up his daughter. His chest burned with frustrated desperation, gripping the block in his hand so hard that his hand began shaking even more.

“Tony”, Stephen said softly, reaching for the block with his own trembling fingers. 

“Dont’!”, the other man bit out, voice slurred, jerking his one remaining hand away like a scared animal jumping away from a trap. He tried to still himself, but continued shaking, the remaining blocks skidding loudly across the table in the silence of the room when he tried to place the block on them. Tony stood quickly, or tried to, as his body was still far too weak to support him. He’d began attempts at walking with the support of a grab rail, his physiotherapist supporting his right side, and joking with Rhodey even as he panted, and shook with pain and determination, and dripped with sweat. Tony dropped back into his chair heavily, though he hadn’t gotten far, reaching out to steady himself on the table and grimacing as his leg muscles spasmed. 

“Jeez”, Tony hissed, chest heaving with the pain of the tremors and the tears came on their own accord. He clumsily swiped at his face, embarrassed by his tears, embarrassed by himself, but gave up quickly, sitting dejectedly and slumped in the uncomfortable wood chair. He stared at his one remaining hand, grateful for it and cursing it all at once. Tears streamed from his one good eye, the tears ducts in his right eye destroyed beyond repair, along with his vision. Stephen hovered uncertainly, hands shoved subconsciously in his sweatpant pockets before kneeling gently beside Tony’s chair, wary of backlash.

“I can’t-“, Tony hiccuped in a sob, interrupting himself. “I know you…everything you d-.” He couldn’t quite find the words, his emotions intermingling with the words he was trying to grasp, and Stephen was almost glad. They had gotten past the awkward thanking each other stage, but this moment of emotional outburst apparently broke the silent pact they had made to try not to mention it. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay”, Stephen soothed, wishing he could say something meaningful, but Tony was inconsolable, and maybe rightly so. He was frustrated, fed up, dejected, exhausted, and he looked to Stephen with so much raw vulnerability in his good eye that the sorcerer almost choked. He had never been seen by someone like that, like they were truly looking into him. His soul felt touched, felt whole for a second, before Tony squeezed his eyes shut and forced more tears down his scarred cheek.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“, he whispered, almost doubled over in his inner grief, breaking down, chest caving with the weight of all that had happened.

“No, you’re alright…”, Stephen lied, wishing desperately that it were true. He reached out, grabbed Tony’s forearm gently, tried to steer him back into a sitting position so he wouldn’t put pressure on his chest or tear his amputation stitches. Tony followed his touch almost blindly, reaching out, still falling forward weakly. He couldn’t hold up the weight of his own pain. 

Stephen found himself gathering the other man up in his arms, without thinking, it was just right. Tony leaned into his chest, forehead pressed below Stephen’s collarbone as he sobbed deeply, shaking under the effort of uncovering buried and repressed emotions. It was easy to be grateful for what had happened to him, but it was soul-breaking to be allowed to be angry about it. He was vaguely aware of the vulnerability between himself and the man holding him; they’d saved each other’s lives, and the sick necessity of that tore an angry sob from somewhere deep in his chest. Tony gripped Stephen’s forearm shakily, making sure he was real, convincing himself that the sorcerer wasn’t going to turn to dust in his arms. Concern knit Stephen’s brow as he allowed himself to be pulled in, heart thrumming heavily and he knew Tony could feel it, pressed against his chest as he was. He let himself shift his grip, wrapping his arms around Tony more securely so he didn’t have to worry about holding himself up because Stephen was doing it, kneeling as close to the chair as he could. 

Tony responded numbly, forehead pressed to the sorcerer’s shoulder, releasing his grip on his forearm only to snake his hand around the other man’s side. Stephen let himself breathe, took a half breath, letting himself hold the small, broken, strong man in his arms, rubbing his shoulder gently while taking care to avoid his bandaged amputation site. Tony let out an almost relieved breath, turning his face inwards as he almost subconsciously buried his face in Stephen’s neck, wet with tears and prickly with stubble, his one arm wrapped around the sorcerer’s ribcage like he was a life buoy. 

Stephen felt his heart jolt. How many times had he imagined this sort of contact? How many times had he lived this, in another life, to be allowed to hold and support this amazing man? Tony’s breathing had become less ragged, just hot puffs of breath that Stephen felt on his tear-dampened skin, felt the weak, desperate grip on his back loosen as Tony pulled back.

“Sorry”, he croaked in a whisper, staring at nothing, eyes red, body numb. Stephen shook his head quickly.

“No”, he said simply, and didn’t know what else to say, because he couldn’t express how okay it was. He would be there for Tony every second for the rest of his life if he could and his madly beating heart confirmed this. Silence enveloped them, save for the rain pattering, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Stephen’s knees were aching from kneeling so long, but he couldn’t feel them. He noticed abruptly that he still had a trembling hand rested on Tony’s knee and pulled it back gently before speaking.

“I can’t say I know what you’re going through, and I’m not going to pretend I do.” He held up his hands, the scarred backs of them facing Tony for him to see. “These are nothing.”

“Don’t”, Tony warned numbly. He couldn’t stand having his injuries compared to others, especially Stephen’s and Rhodey’s disabilities, because anyone else who had ever been affected by this much gamma radiation wasn’t around to be pitied on or held to a hero’s mantle.

“You’re doing so well”, Stephen said instead. “I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself.” He met the teary gaze Tony faced him with.

“Someone…”, he struggled to form the next words and Stephen saw the momentary self-hatred pass over his face. “Someone has to be”, he managed, though he looked exhausted.

“No”, Stephen repeated, because that was the only way to get through to him some days. He stood slowly, legs prickling as he sat on the table, not trusting himself to be that close to Tony and say what he was going to. 

“You’re amazing”, he said simply. Tony looked up at him too quickly and Stephen made himself look away as he continued. “It will get easier. And you have a lot of support; people who want to help you.” He accidentally met Tony’s eyes again. Stephen’s brain was screaming at him to abort mission, but his heart fought back just as hard. “People who love you.” Tony blinked, nodded once, almost successfully hiding how overwhelmed and thrown off he was by the unexpected tenderness in the sorcerer’s voice, despite how hard he was trying to sound detached. 

“Yeah, I-I know I’ve got great people…in my life.” He couldn’t decide if his stutter was the normal one or caused by his confusedly pounding heart, but he held Stephen’s gaze. “I’m not ungrateful.”

“I know”, Stephen said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to make sure you know that people are here for you.” **_That I’m here for you._**

“Thanks.”

Neither was sure what move to make next, so they sat, on table and chair and breathed together in the thrum of the rain on the windows. Tony’s physiotherapist must have been having issues setting up the equipment, not that either minded each other’s company. It was best to ignore what just happened, Stephen thought. Forget it had ever happened, for both their sake’s. Tony had granted their friendship, but there had been a moment of something else, undeniable and poignant in reminding them of the way things where. Stephen put a chain around the feeling and buried it within himself, somewhere deep under his breastbone. It would hurt and fester there, he knew, but it was better than losing it to time. 

“Sorry about the wait, Tony.” Dr. Martins came through the back door from the larger physiotherapy centre. “There were some issues with the aeration machine. How’d the exercise go?” Tony eyed the scattered blocks like they were a foreign entity.

“Not s-so good”, he replied, hiding his red eyes as well as he could. “H-hand’s acting up with the rain.” He jerked his hand over his shoulder at the windows and immediately regretted the movement. Dr. Martins gave him sympathetic look; not to show him pity, but because she cared and wanted him to know that she cared about him as a person and was invested in his treatment, not for the attention it got her in the medical community.

“That’s alright”, she said lightly. “We can try again another day, but we’ll go easy today, okay? No walking, so let’s grab the wheelchair.” From the beginning, Tony had been quick to correct her in calling it _his_ wheelchair; he wasn’t planning on keeping it for long. 

Dr. Martins gave Stephen a smile as she came back with the chair and he stepped out of the way. He wished more than anything that he could help, but his hands were more than useless and he was still too weak to risk using magic to steady them. Not that Amaya Martins couldn’t handle a crippled Tony on her own; she was a strong, sturdy woman and helped him into the wheelchair with ease, just short of lifting him up completely. 

Stephen watched as they passed him to go into the heart of the physiotherapy centre, Tony looking too small and too vulnerable in that damned wheelchair, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to protect him. Tony’s eyes were still red, giving the sorcerer a tired, unsmiling wink as he was wheeled by, a silent thanks that left Stephen’s heart soaring.

*****

This comfortable routine of hanging out in the physio centre together could have gone on forever and Stephen would have happily complied, but all good things come to an end. Tony’s in-hospital physio was complete after several weeks, as he had continued to improve quickly despite what he had gone through. He would continue to have regularly scheduled doctor’s visits and physiotherapy sessions, but the beginning stages of his recovery were well underway.

Tony was going home.

Stephen was both relieved and heartbroken. It meant Tony was out of a majority of the physical danger and pain he might be subjected to, save for his cybernetic arm which he would return to the hospital to have attached within a month’s time. It also meant Stephen would see him a lot less, maybe not at all. They’d only known each other for a few months really, Tony did at least. Stephen was on uncertain ground in terms of what their friendship meant to Tony, how it might progress from this point forward. If Tony weren’t so severely injured, Stephen might expect a coffee meet up once a month. That’s what friends did, right? Stephen racked his mind for the last friend he’d had who wasn’t also a colleague, but all he could think of was Christine’s face, dejected and hurt as he had yelled at her, enraged by the aftermath of his accident. Kind, caring, brilliant Christine who he had treated so poorly. No wonder Stephen couldn’t recall any of his experiences in a mutual friendship, he didn’t have any friends.

“What’re you gonna do without me around to bug you, Doc?”, a voice asked behind him, coming from lower than it should have been. Stephen turned to find Tony wheeling towards him from down the hall. He was still using an electric wheelchair when not doing physiotherapy. He’d insisted otherwise, but with one arm, a manual wheelchair would have been unnecessarily difficult, nigh impossible in his current condition. Stephen forced a smile in response when he felt like crying instead.

“I’m sure I’ll find something to keep myself occupied.” Thinking of the quiet, lonely Sanctum, he wasn’t so sure, but drew his mind back to the present to focus on Tony properly. He knew this was goodbye. 

Tony looked up at him with a half grin, glancing out the window at the view of the Wakandan forest Stephen had been admiring moments ago. He was lost in the sight and it gave Stephen a second to give him a once over: He looked amazingly well, all things considered. He’d taken to wearing a black bandana to cover the burnt, scarred side of his head where his hair had been singed away, and there had been many light-hearted jokes about the possible tragedy of that hair never growing back. The stump under his right shoulder was easier to ignore than talk about, not that any of his loved ones would ever shy away. He was pale, but looked less tired than usual as today was a good day, his good eye twinkling like warm brandy in sunlight. He still looked too small in the wheelchair; it would take a long time for him to gain muscle back, but if there was anyone who would put his all into his physio, it was Tony. It warmed Stephen’s heart just to see him breathing, talking to his family, joking when he could, smiling up at the sorcerer quickly.

“It’s been good to have you around. Everyone would always be asking me how I was feeling doing my exercises and shit, but you just talked with me. It was really cool of you, Doc.” The words should have had Stephen beaming, but the use of past tense was like a newly-sharpened knife to the heart. 

“‘Course”, he choked out as smoothly as possible. “You’re good company, even when you’re bitching about doing reps.” Tony flashed him a grin, but Stephen missed it as he was staring at his feet. “You’re going to be going to a closer hospital when you go home, I presume?”

“Yeah, Doc Martins is gonna transfer my program over to one of the Upstate hospitals. They have a pretty good set-up, nothing like this, though.” He looked around appreciatively. “Still be coming here once a month, but I’ll be able to do a lot of stuff at home.”

“Good. That’s good.” Stephen was searching for what to say next; there was so much he _wanted _to say, he had to sift frantically for what was acceptable. A scampering noise from down the hall distracted him. 

“Daddy!”

Morgan came pounding down the hall at full speed, stuffed rabbit clutched in one hand and long, dark hair streaming wildly as she ran towards her dad.

“Moguna!”, Tony greeted just as enthusiastically. He was always so loving with his daughter, but it was obvious that the prospect of going home had boosted his mood even more. Morgan reached them and Tony couldn’t pick her up, so she clambered carefully into his lap, wrapping small arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. Tony chuckled and kissed her cheek in return, holding her in the crook of his arm.

“We’re going home now! Mommy’s ready. She said to get you.” Tony grinned like this was the first he was hearing of the news.

“Mommy’s ready?”, he asked Morgan, who nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a first”, he muttered sideways to Stephen, who managed a small smile in return.

“We’re going home, Doc! Daddy can go home now”, the little girl informed Stephen, just in case he hadn’t heard, but he couldn’t help getting caught up in her excitement, for her sake at least. 

“That’s amazing news, Miss Morgan. I bet you can’t wait to get him home.” 

“Yep!”, she confirmed. He had crouched down to be on her (and Tony’s) level, which she mistakenly took to be an open invitation for a hug, and was off of her dad’s lap and wrapping her little arms around his neck before he could even blink. Stephen froze, hands trembling as he held them out, completely disarmed within seconds as this little person showed him affection unabashedly. 

“I’ll miss you, Doc”, she told him, head resting on his shoulder, completely unaware of the effect she was having on his heart. Stephen hesitated, but caught Tony’s eye, who was watching them with an unbelievably soft smile, giving the sorcerer an almost pitying look. Stephen finally let himself hug Morgan gently, large, trembling hands held over her back carefully.

“I’ll miss you, too”, he let himself say, voice wavering ever so slightly. They had spent a lot of time together over the past few months and her happy, bright presence was like a small light he didn’t know he had been missing in his life. He stopped the tears from coming because that simply wouldn’t do, face to face with Tony as he was. “You’re a good girl”, he rasped, letting her go and crawl back into her dad’s lap, head leaning against his chest, utterly content.

“We’ll be seeing you, Doc”, Tony said with a nod and a grin and began to turn the wheelchair around, but Stephen held up his hand.

“I could open a gateway for you”, he said, without thinking.

“Really?”

“It would save you having to take the jet halfway around the world”, Stephen said logically. It _was_ logical, really, but his offer wasn’t. He hadn’t been able to conjure a speck of magic since using his life force, a reasonable side effect, Wong had told him. It would take him a lot of time and energy to bring his abilities back up to their previous level, but Tony didn’t know this. **_It’s one gateway_**, Stephen reasoned with himself. And it wasn’t like he could back out now.

*****

It took about half an hour for Rhodey, Stephen, and Pepper to gather up the family’s belongings from their months spent at the hospital, scanning every inch of the hospital suite to make sure they had gotten everything. Tony amused Morgan to keep her out of the way, giving her wheelchair rides up and down one of the long halls until everything was ready. 

“You’ll have to get everything through fairly quickly”, Stephen warned, casually leaving out the part where he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to hold such a large gateway open in his current state. As long as Tony, Pepper, and Morgan went through first, everything should be fine. Stephen dug his sling ring out of his pocket, untouched for months, and slipped it on before quickly making the correct hand movements. He was surprised at how willingly the gateway formed; he’d been expecting resistance, but once it was formed, he felt his energy waining almost immediately. Tony and Morgan rolled through, taking a backpack and pillow with them, while Pepper and Rhodey brought the rest of their belongings through. Stephen could only watch, hoping his tension wasn’t too obvious as he strained to keep the gateway open. It began fizzling around the edges just as Pepper was bringing the last suitcase through. He heard her speaking to him, but couldn’t make out the words, so assumed they were of thanks and nodded quickly.

Aside from the tremors racking his arms, the pressure on his skull, Stephen thought he felt a piece of his heart leaving with the man who’d saved the universe. He wasn’t being dramatic in thinking this, as he felt something break in his chest, and even with all of his knowledge of human anatomy, he had no idea what had just left a hole inside of him.

“Hey, thanks, man. We’ll see you around”, Rhodey said, giving a wave as he stepped through, going to help the family get settled back in and so Pepper wouldn’t have to handle all the bags on her own.

“Yep. No problem”, Stephen managed shortly, his breath coming hard and his head pounding as he double-checked that everything and everyone were through before he allowed the gateway to close. The last thing he saw before doing so was a worried look from Tony, the man opening his mouth to voice his concern, too late as the circle of sparkling gold shut and vanished abruptly with a crackling noise.

Stephen collapsed, blood pounding in his head, cursing himself breathlessly as he tried to focus his swimming vision. He was panting harshly, but as soon as oxygen reached his body, it began to ache, muscles and nerves burning with an acidic intensity that he’d never felt before. His hands were trembling uncontrollably, his legs beginning to convulse as he doubled over, tasting bile in the back of his throat as he heard a familiar crackling noise behind him and an even more familiar, unimpressed voice.

“You’re an idiot”, Wong growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Tony’s breakdown and the end of this chapter hurt, guys. Didn’t help that I had angsty music going, but Stephen’s just so gone on Tony I’m… Watch me catching feels from my own fic.


	4. Two Halves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two months since Stephen and Tony both left the Wakandan hospital. Stephen is incredibly ill, suffering from the effects of giving away half of his life force to save Tony. Wong discovers that Tony may be part of the cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I really enjoy writing about physical and emotional pain, apparently...
> 
> Small BBC Sherlock reference thrown in here...

Metal.

He tasted metal…on his tongue. Licking metal…? No. His mouth was closed. But still drowning in metal. In his throat, sliding down his nostrils, molten and hot. He tried to take a breath, but the metal clogged his throat. 

Steel? No. Nickel? Too sour. The burning intensified. 

Iron.

Stephen sat up quickly in bed, coughing raucously to remove the blockage in his throat. Blood that had begun to clot was lodged in his airways, spraying white sheets bright red as he gripped the mattress. He leaned over, heaving, feeling the rush of oxygen hit him in ragged waves, could feel it reaching his brain and his lungs and his heart, pounding with fear. 

With ever growing dread, Stephen wondered if this was a new symptom, an addition to the ever-growing list of the effects the partial loss of his life force had had on his body. No, he realized, he must have bitten his cheek during a nightmare, as he traced the ragged gash in his mouth, still pumping out blood. Trying to contain the blood in his mouth as best he could without choking, Stephen stumbled from the tangle of bloody sheets and into the bathroom. He spat in the sink, splattering porcelain with diluted red, dark red tendrils dripping from his bottom lip as he caught a glance of his haggard appearance in the mirror. 

It tasted like copper. Of course. Blood tasted like copper. Stephen blinked, still gripping the sink as he regained his breath. Why had he thought of iron, then?

Healing magic out of the question, Stephen stuffed a wad of gauze in his mouth, fumbling with the first aid kit, eyes bleary. He wetted a washcloth with warm water, running it over his face slowly, because once he put the effort in, it always mad him feel a bit better. The sorcerer flicked the light off, padding unsteadily back to his bed. He didn’t bother removing the blood-soaked sheets; they were contained to one side of the bed and he knew he wasn’t going to fall sleep again. 

Stephen shivered as he pulled the covers up, despite the comfortable temperature of this floor of the Sanctum, wishing he had grabbed a sweater from his armoire. He swallowed, arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at the ceiling, still tasting blood at the back of his throat. Still copper. Nothing like iron. Iron. He scrunched his brow, annoyed with himself and his sleep-addled brain that he couldn’t remember why that would be relevant. The realization hit him in the same moment that he remembered his dream. 

Tony. Bleeding out on the battle field. No gauntlet, just run through with a crude, yet enhanced alien weapon. Blood. Oh, God, so much blood. It was running in rivers, pulsing, and the small doctor voice in Stephen’s head told him that wouldn’t last long. Stephen held him, powerless, all of the sorcerer’s magic sucked out of his body, hands soaked red with Iron Man’s blood. Stephen cradled his head because he couldn’t do anything else, hand pressed over Tony’s heart, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Red, dark red. Rivers, choking, gagging. Light leaving kind brown eyes. 

Stephen sobbed into his pillow, blood seeping past the gauze and onto the pillowcase, red spots, dark and poignant. He balked at the sight and resisted the urge to throw the pillow across the room.

It had been nearly two months since Tony had gone home and Stephen had left the Wakandan hospital. Fifty-seven days exactly if you were counting carefully, which Stephen had been. He’d been holding on fairly well at the hospital, but opening that gateway had been the last straw. Holding it open for so long had been enough to sap the last ounces of magical energy the sorcerer had and Wong had scolded him profusely for being so foolish. Stephen had seen the panic in his eyes, though, had realized in that moment, lying on the hospital floor, that he had been very close to death. Two months under Wong’s care had only reversed about half the damage Stephen had caused in those seven minutes of holding the gateway open.

He was delirious, feverish, vomiting constantly as his body rejected what ever was put in it. The first three weeks back at the Sanctum had been a hazy blur, as he was shivering one moment, and boiling hot the next. Wong could have easily healed him if the power of one’s life force wasn’t one of the most powerful natural magics, but it was the lack of that power now which had practically destroyed Stephen’s immune system, leaving his mind and body exposed. And it would take a very long time to heal, though never completely. This meant Wong was compelled to create a protection charm of sorts for Stephen to wear, a form of warding off both medical and magical threats. He had casually presented it to Stephen after several weeks of being back at the Sanctum, shoving it into the weak sorcerer’s hands along with a cup of tea, explaining it as he did. It was a small gold pendant (in the shape of the Eye of Agomotto for sentimentality's sake) on a short chain, which would act as a substitute for the half of Stephen’s life force which he had given away, providing some of the services to his body which he was currently missing.

Stephen fingered it now, ignoring the rolling feeling in his stomach, the aching in his limbs, his pounding head, swimming vision, but none of that was new. He’d gotten used to reducing the pain to a dull ache in the background while he escaped into his mind. He kept memories of a select few of fourteen million possibilities tucked away, thoughts of his other life, the one with Tony and Peter, which had been his salvation while his body tore him apart. 

Most of his favourite memories where what you would expect: Peter graduating from MIT, helping Tony make updates to his cybernetic arm, late nights and early mornings spent working alongside or near his husband, Peter’s wedding when he got older, their wedding before that, finally convincing Tony to retire when he physically couldn’t be Iron Man anymore, moving to a cozy cabin on a lake, and becoming grandparents to Peter’s adopted children. His most treasured memory, though, was one of he and and a newly-retired Tony, watching the sun rise over the lake as they drank their tea and coffee, wrapped up in cozy, ugly sweaters in the morning chill. Multiple lifetimes of sweet memories filled Stephen’s thoughts, made his heart ache, because that hole he’d felt carved into it when Tony went home hadn’t left yet.

His chest was the worst part, really. It had been ever since he’d used his life force. His lungs, his ribs, his heart, occasionally trailing up into his esophagus, sometimes even his back, his entire upper abdomen was in constant, aching pain. It got worse sometimes, like when he moved around too much or thought about Tony. That was just heartbreak, he told himself reasonably. Of course, he knew a broken heart could manifest as physical pain, but this was something else. This was his entire chest telling him that he’d given a piece of himself away and now he’d lost it. The worst part was that he could distinctly feel how far away it was. The exact distance was 109 miles between the New York Sanctum and the cabin in Upstate New York, and he could _feel_ it in every beat of his chopped up heart, his wheezing lungs, and the breath that caught in his throat when he couldn’t pull his mind away from reality. 

Heart break was so much like grief, Stephen mused, not for the first time in the past two months. He’d lost someone, someone who didn’t even know he had ever had them. His possible future lives with Tony had only ever been a dangerous, ripping fantasy, millions of lifetimes reduced to milliseconds as he searched for the one where they won the fight. His heart had broken a little more each time he had to pass one of the good ones; one of the possibilities that was full of love and laughter, adventures and kids, magic and technology, coffee and dogs.

Tears rolled down Stephen’s cheeks as he stared up at the ceiling, having become intimately familiar with the dark hardwood boards above his head, breath coming shakily as he tried to focus on his pleasant pseudo memories without actually thinking about them. It was three o’clock and he hadn’t eaten anything yet, hadn’t moved from his bed save for dealing with his cheek injury moments ago. Not that he could eat anything solid, even if he wanted to. Wong had tried forcing him to in the first few weeks, but his body simply rejected anything he consumed like it was laced with poison. Stephen lost weight quickly, along with muscle, becoming a mere ghost of his former self, as IV fluids and healing magic could only do so much. Wong was worried, though he hid it well. It seemed that’s all Wong did nowadays; worried about Stephen and read up on healing techniques. But anything that had ever been written about damaged life forces was just that - someone who had suffered a magical attack and their life force had taken the damage. History couldn’t tell of anyone who had given away a piece of their life force and survived. 

For the first time in a while, Stephen felt hungry, properly, ravenously hungry, he realized, swinging his legs slowly over the edge of the bed. The tall curtains in his room were drawn shut as too much sunlight triggered migraines, but he risked peeking between them. Raining. Of course. He scoffed, thinking of how much Tony loved storms. 

Ignoring the cramping in his chest, Stephen slowly pulled on his worn, burgundy bath robe, old velvet with a paisley pattern that felt as old as everything else in the Sanctum. It was a meagre substitute for Levi, seeing as it wouldn’t catch him when he stumbled on the stairs, or even on his own feet. Despite this, Stephen braved the stairwell heading down to the third floor of the Sanctum which consisted of a kitchenette, Wong’s study, and an open reading area. Too much space for two men who barely spoke, even less nowadays. Wong was in the reading area when Stephen stumbled into the attached kitchenette, surrounding by piles of old books, many of which where at least half a foot thick.

“Strange”, Wong greeted, hiding his surprise expertly, a feeble stab at professionalism considering he’d been spoon-feeding the other man several weeks ago. “Do you want some tea?” Stephen shook his head in response. Words seemed pointless lately. Stephen shuffled to the fridge, barefoot as usual, chewing on the gauze still in his cheek absently as he surveyed the shelves. Leftover pad thai caught his eye and he held the glass container in question up to Wong, asking permission to raid his leftovers.

“Go ahead”, the senior sorcerer said, an incomprehensible expression passing over his face. Confusion? Most likely. Relief? Maybe. Worry? Definitely. He watched Stephen rattle around clumsily in a drawer, produce a pair of chopsticks, and walk over to sink slowly into the large, under-stuffed armchair opposite. He was tender, Wong could tell, grimacing even as he lifted the chopsticks. Movement was excruciating. And he’d seen him try to discreetly dispose of the wad of gauze in the kitchen garbage.

“What happened to your mouth?” Stephen didn’t look up, just focusing on getting rice noodles in his mouth and not all over himself.

“Nothing”, he rasped shortly. Not only did talking hurt his throat, it used up energy he didn’t have. Wong knew this, but also didn’t believe him.

“Sores in your mouth? If it’s a new symptom, I need to know about it, Stephen.”

“Bit my cheek”, Stephen all but snapped, accidentally dropping a peanut down the side of the chair’s cushion. He growled in annoyance and searched for it for a few moments before giving up. He’d find it when he was done eating. He enjoyed the taste of chicken, fish sauce, and lime coating his tongue before the flavours were overtaken by blood, the gash in his cheek irritated by the movement. He ignored it, though, swallowing blood thickly and trying to enjoy the first meal he’d had in…no, that was too bleak a thought. 

Wong was shaken by the sight before him; it was sobering to see the powerful Sorcerer Supreme, his friend, reduced to the emaciated, shaking, half-dead mess before him. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Whenever he wasn’t taking care of Stephen, Wong was pouring over books full of information that was close to useless in their situation. Weeks worth of books, nearly a quarter of the library had been gone through, until today when he had stumbled upon a passage that provided a small pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Have you heard from Stark lately?”, Wong asked casually, though Stephen’s head snapped up at the name, eyes wide with alarm, like an animal in a trap that knew it was going to die. 

“Why?”, Stephen growled defensively, because his throat wouldn’t allow his usual smooth timbre. 

“I think I might have found something that could heal you, though I’m not sure how helpful it might end up being. Don’t get your hopes up too much”, he warned quickly, seeing the light in Stephen’s eyes. “It’s to do with Stark”, he started slowly, gauging Stephen’s reaction. Good so far. “And, if it works, it’s almost excruciatingly simple compared to what we thought the cure might involve.” Stephen didn’t respond, just watched him silently, like a cat hunting. “It’s to do with proximity. Returning one half of your life force to the other would…well, it wouldn’t heal you completely, but as long as you where within a certain physical distance, a majority of your physical symptoms would remediate themselves.” This information was turned over in Stephen’s exhausted brain for nearly ten minutes before he responded.

“So, you-you’re saying…”, he said, clearly struggling with the words. “I would just have to be…close to him? That’s ridiculous.”

“Think of it, Stephen, it makes sense. The only difference would be that the life force would be in two bodies instead of one. You’re never going to be able to repair it, but it’s the closest thing to a bandage we’re going to get.” Stephen let his jaw hang slack with the pathetic simplicity of it all, despair clear on his face. They had been searching for some complex spell or ritual to heal Stephen’s life force, or at least alleviate his physical symptoms, and though his protective charm was helping (he’d likely be constantly unconscious without it), they never thought it would be so simple as the matter of physical proximity.

**_But that isn’t simple at all,_** Stephen thought, container of pad thai forgotten on his lap as he stared into the middle distance, heart thrumming with pain that was shaking his entire body. Tony had offered friendship at the very most, not to be Stephen’s live-in pacemaker. 

What Wong was trying to say was that Stephen and Tony were linked now. Forever. Explicitly. If anything ever happened to Tony, the chances of Stephen surviving were slim. Sure, he didn’t physically have his full life force anymore, but at least a piece of it was out there.

Wong sat quietly and watched him, also understanding the awkward helplessness of the situation; Stephen hadn’t complained once during the entire ordeal, throughout all the healing, or lack thereof, something Wong didn’t comment on since he knew it was because Stephen would do it all over again. He’d face the worst torture imaginable, he’d die billions of times over and over, or just once, if it meant Tony could be happy and alive instead. To him, this was the smallest price to pay for the life of the greatest man the universe had ever seen. 

It was also exceedingly obvious, to Wong, at least, how the sorcerer felt for the billionaire, though he was so much more to him. During one of their conversations while first in the Wakandan hospital, Stephen had told him how he’d determined the winning reality by looking through all the possible futures, and the look on his face while saying that had been enough for Wong to know what he had seen. The not-so-subtle pining whenever Tony wasn’t in the room was just the icing on the cake. 

“I think you should at least bring it up to him, let him know what you’re going through. It’s the least he could do-“. Stephen’s jaw clenched as he met Wong’s eyes.

“He doesn’t owe me anything!”, he managed, though his lungs were on fire and threatening to give out on him. “Were you not there? Didn't you see what he did?”

“Stephen-.”

“No! There’s no way I’m gonna guilt trip him into helping me! He doesn’t have any obligation to me what so ever!”

“Okay! Okay.” Wong held his hands up placatingly. “But you should know that this is the only lead I’ve had in six months.” Stephen blinked, remembered the chopsticks in his hand and realized how tightly he was squeezing them. He set them down, put the container on a side table, and met Wong’s eyes.

“You’re sure-.”

“Yes. This is it.” He looked at Stephen, unguarded for once. “No one else has ever survived what you’ve done, Strange. Only a few have been stupid enough to try.” Here there was a flicker of a grin from both men. “You need to get better, and I give you my honest word that this is the only way to do it.” 

Stephen tried to breathe deeply, and that hurt, so he settled for a half breath, and looked to his friend with resolution.

“Alright. I’ll contact him at the very least. But what can I truly expect from him? He offered friendship…”, Stephen choked, though he couldn’t decide if it was on blood or his words. “What sort of arrangement would even fulfill…what my life force will require?” Wong shook his head.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sure you could find out through a bit of trial and error.”

“Right. And please don’t apologize. You’ve done everything you can for me, and I’m grateful.” The senior sorcerer didn’t know how to respond to this, so didn’t, instead turning back to the book in his lap.

“You have his number?”, Wong asked. 

“Yeah, he gave it to me.”

“Good.” 

“Yep”, Stephen said, then continued to stare at his hands.

“Are you going to call him?”

“I said I would.” The Sorcerer Supreme remained seated in the too-large armchair.

“Do you want me to call him?” This spurred Stephen into action.

“No”, he said indignantly, reaching for his container of pad thai. “Let me eat first.” Wong nodded in compliance, but continued watching his friend. He studied him for a moment, noticing acutely how steady his hands where, but how the rest of him trembled, like his body was breaking under its own weight.

“Good that you have an appetite”, he remarked. 

“Yeah, that’s new”, Stephen said with a screwed up look, like he had only just noticed it as well. They left it at that, silently letting it hang in the air. This might be a sign of improvement; it seemed to be logically, but who knew. There wasn’t exactly extensive medical records kept about people who had been stupid enough to try and give their life force away. 

Stephen picked away at his food, finishing most of it and then staying in the kitchen with a cup of chamomile on hand just in case it decided to come back up. It didn’t. Though he second-guessed his choice of calling Tony immediately after, stomach roiling as it was as he treaded slowly upstairs to retrieve his phone. He snatched it from the bedside table, lowering himself onto his bed slowly, muscles aching, joints cracking and popping in protest. He wasn’t about to have Wong hovering over his shoulder like a mother hen while he called. That would simply be too mortifying. 

He scrolled through his few contacts, letting a smile slip in the quiet, dark of his room as he tapped on the contact named “Douchebag”. Tony had insisted he put his number in Stephen’s phone one day in the Wakandan hospital. They were friends after all. 

It had been a good day: Tony had woken up with less pain than usual, their physio had gone over seamlessly, having burgers and salads for lunch together before watching movies with Morgan for the rest of the day. At some point during “Finding Nemo”, Tony had reached his hand out and out of nowhere said, “Pass me your phone, I’ll give you my number.” Stephen had complied almost robotically, heart thrumming as he watched, still holding Morgan’s stuffed rabbit on his lap at her request. Their eyes had met as Tony passed it back, that devilish twinkle reaching his good eye. 

“Just in case you ever need a hand going for an emergency donut run”, he said with a wink. It had become an inside joke, what with Tony’s weakness for donuts, his tradition of eating donuts within large donuts, and the fact that the alien ship they crashed on Titan could only be referred to when jokingly called “the flying donut”, without causing someone to break down. The inside joke had turned into a weekly habit of raiding the hospital cafeteria, usually on down days or the few really good days. They’d go down for their weekly donut run, usually decked out in the most ridiculous pyjamas or outfits they could muster, Peter and Stephen distracting or charming or horrifying the cafeteria ladies while Tony snatched a box of donuts and made his getaway with the electric wheelchair, Morgan on his lap and clutching the box with unimaginable glee. Their party met back up in Tony’s hospital suite, everyone collapsing onto the couch after Stephen had helped Tony on to it from the wheelchair. They’d laugh and fight over the donuts with the most sprinkles, though Stephen and Tony both preferred the chocolate ones anyway. Stephen swore his heart had stopped one time when Tony had leaned over and casually swiped a thumb at the corner of the sorcerer’s mouth, saying, “Ya got a little schmutz there”, wiping the chocolate off as easily as he might have done for Morgan. 

Stephen dragged himself out of his mind and found himself back in his room, smiling at his phone, and his heart dropped a little. But he held onto the happy feeling as best he could, wishing he had a picture he could use for Tony’s contact page.

“My douchebag”, he muttered quietly, running a thumb over the word on the screen. He let his thumb hover over the small, green phone icon, his heart pounding heavily, so quickly that it hurt. Oh, for the love of Vishanti, he was going to throw up. In a rush of bravery, he hit the button, almost forgetting to lift the phone up to his ear as it rang. He listened, his heart jarring with each new ring, breathing heavily while trying to calm himself at the same time.

_“If you have this number, you know who you’ve reached. Leave an interesting message or risk boring me to tears.” _

The message tone sounded and Stephen hung up quickly, tossing his phone across the bed. He drew his hands down his face in frustration. Why was he acting like a freaking teenager, for gods sakes? He stood up quickly, too quickly, and stalked to the washroom unsteadily, hovering over the toilet for nearly ten minutes before realizing his nauseous stomach wasn’t going to spontaneously empty on him. Stephen made his way back to the bed, planning on wrapping himself in his misery and an afghan while lying on the bed, when the phone rang. He almost jumped, froze, staring at it before he realized the rings where going to run out, and lunged across the bed.

_Douchebag_, the screen told him. **_Vishanti, help me._**

“H-Hello?”, Stephen said, cringing at his own voice. 

“Hey, Doc. About time you gave me a call. Sorry I missed you, I was finishing up some physio.”

“It’s okay”, Stephen insisted, almost crying at hearing Tony’s voice. Warm, familiar, comfortable, still a little slurred on the edges, but _glad_ to hear from him. And then, Stephen felt a switch, like something in the universe was preparing itself for something great, as Tony said the words which would signal the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“How about you come around for dinner on Friday? I grill a mean cheeseburger.”


	5. I Could Be Okay With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen has dinner at the Stark cabin. He tries to figure out how to tell Tony that his split life force has connected them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovesick idiot finally gets to see and talk to his mans (this should have been the chapter summary)
> 
> Please comment if you can, it's really nice to know what parts people like!!!
> 
> Don't worry, guys, things are gonna hurt a lot less very soon.
> 
> (Their first conversation on the porch could have been very interesting and complex. I'm extremely frustrated that I couldn't do it justice, but there's only so long you can edit something, ya know??)

The beginning of everything, though no one knew, had been on a Tuesday. 

That dreary, rainy, bleak Tuesday when Tony had returned Stephen’s panicked phone call. After the initial shock had worn off, the sorcerer had let himself relax in the soothing lull of the other man’s voice. God, how he’d missed hearing his voice, all those weeks spent at the hospital, talking everyday, spending hours together working on their respective physio programs. Stephen could have sobbed with relief as he spoke with Tony on the phone, and almost did, clapping a hand over his mouth and holding it there whenever Tony was talking. 

They didn’t speak for long, just casually going over whether Stephen had any allergies or other dietary limitations. Stephen, of course, failed to mention that the first food he’d kept down in two months was the pad thai he could still taste in his mouth.

To say Stephen was nervous would be the understatement of the century. Besides the very obvious conundrum of his sickly appearance, there was the prime opportunity just placed before him to bring up the matter of his damaged life force with Tony. As eager as he was to see him again, Stephen wished he had more than two days to gather his thoughts and formulate a somewhat nonchalant way of bringing up his shattered soul when all Tony had in mind was a casual dinner. Stephen swallowed thickly as he thought of springing this topic on Tony; unsuspecting and so out of the loop in terms of how sick Stephen was. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea, Stephen thought as he stopped pacing around his bed and made his way into the bathroom. 

His gaunt reflection stared back at him like a bony ghost and he cringed at the way his cheeks were sunken, neck looking far too sinewy, everything about him looking even more unnecessarily lanky than usual. Any of the muscle that he had worked so hard to gain was lost in the past two months, leaving sharp edges and pale, flat skin in their place.

“I don’t want him to see me like this”, Stephen whispered to the mirror. **_But you’ll only get worse if you don’t go see him_**, the little voice in his mind countered.

“Maybe”, he cautioned. “There’s no telling if Wong’s theory is right or not.” **_It better be_**, the voice warned. **_You’re not going to last too much longer if it isn’t._**

“Shut up”, Stephen growled at the voice and considered fleetingly whether he was losing his mind or not. 

Stephen spent the next two days seeing what his stomach could handle, in hope of at least creating a facade of well-being, hoping he’d be able to consume a semi-normal amount of the burgers Tony had promised. While he picked away at a half bowl of granola on Thursday morning, though his innards just felt hollow and not remotely hungry, Stephen worked over in his mind how he might bring up the subject of his life force to Tony. The other man knew the basics, of course. He’d been naturally curious about the power which Stephen had used to save his life, but wasn’t aware of much more than how it had rebooted his organs. He hadn’t been told how the very act was forbidden, that all types of moral debates came into play in the world of sorcery considering dispersing your own life force to serve another being, or that Stephen could have been suspended or eradicated from Kamar Taj and the sorcerer world completely for committing such a taboo act. And Tony definitely didn’t know the toll that his fractured life force was having on Stephen; his body running at even less than half power, immune system shot, will to live practically torn in half, one piece of which Tony was now in possession of. It was all too complicated to casually bring up over dinner and Stephen was attempting to wrap his mind around doing just that. It wasn’t socially acceptable, that was for sure, not that that had ever given him much pause. He wrestled with the concept for a half hour longer, before giving up, discouraged and desperate, hoping an hour or two of sleep may help him come up with a suitable idea.

Stephen slept through until Friday morning, his alarm blaring at eight o’clock because Vishanti forbid he be any less than perfectly prepared for his dinner plans at the Stark cabin. The sorcerer rolled over to turn his alarm off, before staring up at the ceiling, arms crossed over his chest as he often did now a days; the tiny bit of pressure on his chest felt good, like his soul was being gently bound back together. He imagined that feeling increasing tenfold when he would see Tony later that day and he smiled for the first time since he’d left the Wakandan hospital. 

*****

Stephen had been standing in his bathroom for nearly half an hour. He was staring at his reflection, a symphony of terrible scenarios dancing through his head as he looked through the gaunt reflection staring back at him. There wasn’t anyway he could gain much weight back in the short span of two days, but at least he could dress nicely, he thought, fingering the collar of his navy blue button down. 

**_Would Tony like this?_**, his mind asked of the shirt, and Stephen scoffed at his own mind. 

“You’re practically about to be begging this man for your life”, he growled quietly at the mirror. “Maybe don’t flirt with him, hmm?”, he taunted himself. “Do you think you can handle that?” There was a sharp rap on the bathroom door and Stephen jumped, pulling it open with a wary glare to reveal Wong, because who else would be in the Sanctum?

“Are you ready to go?” Stephen brushed past him to grab his phone from the nightstand, fairly certain he had seen an amused glimmer in the other man’s eyes. He checked the time on his phone. 4:45 p.m. Tony had said to come anytime between 4:30 and 5:00, so an exact split down the middle had soothed the sorcerer’s OCD tendencies. 

“Yes”, he snipped back, and then checked himself. “Do you think you could bear to not mention any of…what’s been going on the past few months?” Wong regarded him dryly for a second before adjusting his sling ring with a half smirk.

“So ungrateful”, he grumbled, but Stephen could tell he was teasing. “Don’t worry, Strange. I’m not even coming through.” With that, he drew a circle in the air with his right hand, the familiar ring of golden sparks forming in the middle of Stephen’s bedroom. Stephen regarded the senior sorcerer with a quiet grin, hands shoved in his jean pockets as Wong finished conjuring the gateway.

“I truly am grateful. I’d likely be dead if not for what you’ve done for me.”

“Okay, okay. Get out of here”, Wong said gruffly, just short of shoving him through the gateway. Stephen complied unsteadily as his nerves swamped him again, his legs trembling with anxiety. “Text me when you need a gateway back.”

“I will. Thank you.” The gateway sizzled shut behind him and Stephen found himself standing on a rolling lawn at a lake’s edge, a large, but welcoming cabin to his right. It was the cabin he had seen through the gateway when Tony had first gone home, a shocking relic from the futures which had never been, but felt like the past to Stephen, the only person who had ever seen them. He’d seen this cabin countless times in many thousands of possibilities, but never like this, never as an outsider. It had always been his and Tony’s; their retreat from the city and their busy jobs, and then their retirement home. It had been Grandpa and Granddad’s place for Peter’s kids, a place to heal and rest and love and have fun. He looked around, trying not to mix memories from his visions with the present. There was the tire swing, the old worn dock that never aged, but had always been old and full of splinters. There were the big willows at the water’s edge that Tony and Peter had tried to make a rope swing into the water from, only resulting in both becoming rope burned and water logged by the end of the day. And, oh Vishanti, the bench at the edge of the water. The bench where he and Tony had- could have spent the rest of their mornings watching the sun rise while they drank their tea and coffee. 

But Stephen didn’t let his feet carry him there because he was supposed to have never been here, though he never really had save for in his mind. Stephen dragged himself back to the present as best he could, quickly scanning the front of the cabin and noticing a figure on the porch. He stalked across the grass unsteadily, hands shoved in his pockets as he recognized Tony seated on the porch, though the other man hadn’t spotted him yet. Stephen’s heart thudded loudly as he approached, relishing in the sight of the man he’d missed so much. He was nestled in a large cushioned deck chair, blanket over his legs in the chill of the cool fall evening, a blue flannel looking a little too big on him as he typed away on his tablet.

“Tony”, Stephen greeted gently as he made his way up the steps, breath catching in his throat, heart thudding, dry mouth making him choke as he stepped onto the porch. Stepping closer to the other man, he realized a spark had ignited right under his breastbone and was quickly growing with every passing second. His chest was light, it was free, like a rising sun was surging up into his ribcage, warming him from the inside out. His heart was beating like a faulty metronome, but at least it didn’t hurt, at least it didn’t feel like it was going to be crushed under the weight of it’s own ache. Stephen smiled as Tony looked up at him, and it felt foreign on his face, but he couldn’t help it.

To his surprise, when Tony spoke, it was through a female, Irish voice that came from the ceiling of the porch, obviously Tony’s words, though his mouth didn’t move.

“Hi, Doc. It’s been a while.” Stephen blinked in shock before he remembered that he should respond.

“Hey, how are you-.”

“Yeah, sorry about the voice thing”, Tony said in his mind, looking truly apologetic. “I figured out how to how to hook Friday up to my brainwaves”, and the AI’s voice came off as sounding both proud and regretful. “Oh, yeah, Friday, this is the Doc.”

“Hello, Doctor Strange”, the AI greeted pleasantly, no longer relaying Tony’s thoughts.

“Hi”, Stephen said uncertainly, not surprised that Tony had integrated advanced tech into his home, but he was thrown off by his use of the AI to speak. “Uh, what happened to your voice? You were doing so well with your speech therapy and everything.” He couldn’t help the concern laced in his voice, as Tony placed his tablet on the small table beside his chair. He looked grim, frustrated, but brushed past it as he gestured for Stephen to take the chair opposite him. Stephen complied, moving gingerly as he was still sore and hoped Tony didn’t notice.

“I slipped in the shower like a goddamn 80-year-old”, he explained through Friday’s voice. “It’s kind of hard grabbing the hand rail when you don’t have a hand on that side”, he said with a bitter grin, pausing, swallowing, and the look on his face made Stephen want to hug him. It also drew the sorcerer’s attention to his right side, Tony’s sleeve hanging empty beside him. He was supposed to already been fitted with his cybernetic arm, but Stephen let him finish before badgering him with more questions. “So, I hit my head like an idiot. Doc Martins said it’s just a temporary lapse in motor skills that’s messing with the connection between my brain and tongue. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong internally, like, I can still form coherent thoughts or you’d just be hearing gibberish right now. So, yeah, whatever I jostled around in there - you’d probably know even better than her - but I can’t really say much right now. She said I probably haven’t lost a lot of progress speech-wise, but there’s no telling how long it will last.”

“Probably something to do with the  cerebral cortex or cerebellum , but, you’re right, it can be hard to tell when it might improve. I mean, it depends. You haven’t been able to talk at all?” Tony shook his head out of habit, but then remembered the AI.

“No. Just through Friday. But at least with her I don’t have to use that goddamned drawing pad again.” The warm, Irish lilt sounded cold now, dejected, and Stephen felt bad for asking. There was a beat of silence in which Stephen considered offering comfort, some words of hope, and then mulled over whether it would be a bad idea to ask about his arm, but Tony beat him to speaking again. 

“Enough about me. How have you been doing?” As innocent as it sounded, it was clearly a loaded question from the look on Tony’s face. Stephen could tell that Tony at least had an idea of how he had been doing. Thought he might be unaware of the premise, it didn’t take a genius to see that Stephen had been having a rough time of it lately. The sorcerer was painfully aware of his sickly appearance under Tony’s intelligent gaze; he was paler, more bone than anything, eyes haunted, wishing he had thought to bring a cardigan as the mid autumn wind picked up. He could almost ignore all of that, though, what with the warmth spreading through his chest like a soothing wave of healing energy. 

He sorely wished that Tony didn’t have to see him like this, but the glow Stephen felt in his presence was more than worth it. He had been momentarily distracted as Tony had explained the loss of his voice, but his input as a neurosurgeon was quickly overtaken by the inexplicable joy and light he felt in his chest. For the first time in two months, there wasn’t the crippling pain that had been crushing his lungs and heart. He could breathe. He could talk without the sore rasp in his voice. His heart was pounding in Tony’s presence, but it wasn’t aching like it was being crushed, crushed by a giant hand trying to squeeze the life out of him. It didn’t feel like someone had reached into his chest and carved a hole, leaving one half of a ragged heart, a tattered soul, because the other half was sitting a few feet in front of him. He felt whole again. But he tried to downplay it, hands steepled as he leaned over his knees, not allowing himself to meet Tony’s big, casually concerned eyes.

“I’ve been better, I’ve been worse, you know.” Tony didn’t, but nodded. Stephen could feel that he didn’t want to push the subject. “Wong’s been looking after me.” He had said it to reassure Tony a little, but it had the opposite affect as he sat up straighter, obviously alarmed by this information. As sharp as ever despite his injuries, he quickly connected two and two.

“So, how’s the, uh…life force thing, then?” Tony gestured vaguely between them, obviously very uncomfortable with the topic, but not looking away. The guilt he felt was tangible. Guilt for what Stephen had done, giving him a piece of himself to save the other man’s life. **_It was worth it. I would do it again if I had to_**, Stephen wished he could tell him, but a part of him reasoned that it wouldn’t help if he did. He could see it in his eyes that Tony had to know, an intense look in his brown and blind eye alike, burning with a pained light as he faced the sorcerer. Stephen couldn’t lie to him.

“We, uh, we haven’t found a cure or anything. Rather, Wong hasn’t. I’ve been…”, and he trailed off because how could he tell him? He couldn’t possibly explain the pain he’d been feeling, because any guilt Tony felt in the first place would only increase tenfold. He wouldn't lie to him, but he couldn’t tell him everything either. “It’s been rough, honestly, but I’ll be fine.” A lie. Tony had a look on his face so distraught, Stephen couldn’t tell if he was going to yell or cry.

“Nothing? Really? All those sorcerers and their magic and they don’t have some voodoo shit they could pull off? Don’t those guys have healing powers or something that they could use on you?” The AI’s voice was strained, sensing Tony’s stress, the jump in his brain waves that relayed his bewildered frustration. 

“The strength of the life force far surpasses any other natural energy or magic. I would have been the only one powerful enough heal a damaged life force, but not my own.” Tony balked at the information, but kept searching.

“Really, nothing? There’s nothing you can do? ‘Cause, honest to god, Strange, not to be a dick, but you look like you’re on death’s door.” The sorcerer met Tony’s eyes and saw real anger there, the kind of anger you fight for your loved ones with, and his heart jumped at the sight. 

“Not nothing”, Stephen admitted slowly, voice gravelly, heart racing. “Wong actually might have found something right before you called me on Tuesday.” He fumbled with the jumbled up words in his brain, trying to set them in order as he said them. “Uh, it’s still not a cure, but…um, proximity to the…removed portion of my life force may alleviate some of the…symptoms I’ve been experiencing.” There. He had said it. He hadn’t been planning to tell Tony less than ten minutes into his visit, but now it was out. Tony blinked calmly, regarding him with something akin to quiet horror. 

“Proximity?”, he tried quietly, Friday’s tone hushed and uncertain. “You mean if you’re close to your life force…” - he wasn’t going to say ‘me’ - , “You’ll get better?” His entire body was bristling with the complex mix of emotions racing between them. Guilt, gratitude, disbelief, cursing the universe out for the unfairness of it all, but maybe even a bit of relief mixed in. Stephen nodded minutely in response.

“That’s the short of it, yeah”, he choked out. 

Silence fell over them, Stephen still clasping his hands together, listening to the autumn wind playing with the willow leaves, watching Tony take in the information he’d had half a year to process himself. Stephen had always known the risk of giving up part of his life force, and hadn’t regretted it for a second, sitting now as he was, across from the man who should have died saving the world. This timeline said Tony Stark shouldn't be alive right now, so Stephen had defied fate and the universe in order to bring him home safely. Any cost it took to accomplish that would have never been too much in the sorcerer’s mind. He’d seen too much, knew too much now, to ever go back to his life before, not thinking about Tony, and his shattered life force would ensure that. 

“Do you feel better now?”, Tony asked suddenly, voice choked and careful, even through Friday’s lilt. He looked tentative, hopeful, scared, and oh so guilty. His wrecked body held the tension of his words, good eye a little misty, but dead serious as he waited for Stephen’s answer. Stephen’s heart was hammering, to say the least, making himself meet Tony’s gaze.

“Yeah, a lot, actually.” His voice was choked, wishing his words weren’t true, but praising them all at once. He wasn’t surprised by the tears he felt prickling at the backs of his eyes, threatening to spill over. He was relieved, relieved that Wong’s theory had been correct, that it meant being close to Tony, but the complexity of such a situation made the revelation bittersweet. 

Stephen ducked his head, pressing his hands to his forehead as he drew in a shaky, wet breath. He couldn’t cry in front of Tony right now, that would be far too telling. Yes, it was emotional - he could feel the guilt and uncertainty rolling off Tony in waves - thinking of how they were physically connected now, though they barely knew one another. But what a relief, too, Stephen thought. He was overwhelmed by how good he had felt almost immediately; there had been a flicker of warmth in his chest the second he’d stepped through the gateway onto Tony’s front lawn, the two shattered pieces of his soul recognizing each other. He was nearly shaking from the relief of not feeling like he was constantly a second away from death, his body thrumming with life and purpose he hadn’t felt since before the Snap, and Tony was the reason. **_But how unfair is that? _**The only person who could keep him alive was also someone who he could never have a close enough relationship with to do so.

Stephen looked up, not meaning to catch Tony’s eye, but the other man was watching him intently, clearing struggling for words. He straightened up, tugging his flannel tighter around his shoulders and Stephen shivered with him.

“I’m sorry, Strange, I got nothing. I don’t know what to say to that, honestly.” Stephen gave a small smile, avoiding Tony’s honest gaze.

“It’s okay.” He crossed his arms, shoving his hands under them. “It’s a lot to…take in.”

“I gotta ask…”, Tony started, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “How much, uh…proximity does it-you require?” Stephen shrugged slightly.

“I don’t know, honestly. There isn’t a lot of research or history to go off with this sort of thing. Most people don’t survive once they-.” He cut himself off when he saw the panicked look on Tony’s face, coughing as he looked away, anywhere but Tony’s good eye looking at him with fearful guilt. The screen door creaked and both men looked over almost gratefully to see a pair of big, brown eyes watching them.

“C’mon out, Moguna”, Tony encouraged, and Morgan pushed the door open and came scurrying to climb into Tony’s lap, pressing her face into his shoulder shyly.

“Mommy thought you were talking to yourself again”, she muttered into his ear as if it were a secret. Tony’s embarrassment showed through his grin, but he quickly covered it, kissing his daughter’s cheek.

“Nope, just havin’ a chat with a wizard out here. You remember Doc, right, Mogs?” The little girl nodded, turning to face Stephen now that her dad had assured her he was still a friend.

“Yep.”

“Hi, Miss Morgan”, Stephen said, grinning when she gave a pleased smile at the nickname. “Were you helping your mom with dinner?” She nodded excitedly, eyes alight with pride.

“Yeah! I even got to cut cheese for the cheeseburgers, Doc.”

“Mmm, I’m sure they’ll taste even better now”, Stephen hummed appreciatively, earning another self-satisfied smile. Tony bounced Morgan on his knee, kissing her hair before pressing his mouth near her ear, though he still spoke through Friday.

“Why don’t you let Mommy know Doc’s here and we’ll be right in, okay? We just need to finish talking for a bit.” Morgan kissed her dad in returned, arms around his neck as though his scars didn’t exist, before jumping back off his lap.

“Okay, Daddy.” They watched her run back inside, hair flying behind her as usual, and Stephen swore he could feel his heart swelling with love. **_Is this what a real family felt like?_**, he found himself thinking. He’d only ever known this feeling in a whirlwind of possibilities, intermixed with his or Tony’s deaths, fleetingly happy before destruction and battle tore them apart in most cases. 

“She kept asking when you were going to come hang out with us, like at the hospital, but I didn’t have your number”, Tony explained with a lopsided grin that made Stephen melt. “Not that that’s a problem anymore. I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” His eyes twinkled as Stephen realized what he was saying. 

“I-I don’t want you to feel obligated. I wasn’t even sure I was going to tell you yet”, Stephen admitted. “It’s not fair to expect you to-.”

“Bullshit”, Tony interrupted, almost offended. “What do you mean you weren’t going to tell me? I’m sure as hell not gonna let you keep going like this”, he gestured at Stephen’s weak body. “Do you have any idea how bad I’d feel if you died on me, asshole?” His tone was half-joking, but Stephen could see the sincerity burning in his good eye, levelling the sorcerer with a glare that could conjure respect from a being three times his size. 

“Yeah, no, I - you can’t really-.”

“I can and I will and you’ll accept it or so help me, Strange…” Tony had no need to continue his half-hearted threat, as Stephen met his eyes with a moment of too-open vulnerability. Trust and gratitude passed between them before Tony broke their eye contact.

“Let’s head in”, he said, standing with surprising ease, and grabbing his tablet as he moved towards the screen door. “Don’t worry about eating much if you don’t feel up to it”, he muttered. “I won’t be offended.” The teasing tone was back and it was easier than the overbearing guilt, but the twinkle in his good eye set Stephen’s heart to thudding heavily again. 

“Thanks”, Stephen managed, forcing himself up from the chair. They exchanged a smile as Tony held the door open for him, too close, too soft, the moment brief and delicate. 

*****

Dinner went well with minimal awkwardness, specifically on Stephen’s part. He was relieved that he was able to eat most of a cheeseburger and some of his salad, making sure to praise Morgan on her expert cheese-cutting abilities. After he got past the initial tension of seeing Pepper again, everything unspoken and uncertain between them, the four were able to fall into casual conversation that could have seemed normal to an outsider. 

They fell into patterns much like their conversations at the Wakandan hospital, the first comfortable starting point for them, something easy to go back to. Tony would interrogate him gently, picking away at the sorcerer’s hard exterior while they ate, Stephen interjecting with a wry comment now and again. Pepper either watched them with amusement, or tacked onto whatever Tony was talking about, steering the conversation whenever they neared a subject inappropriate for Morgan. The conversation was based around as much normality as possible, mostly about Tony’s physio, a bit to do with the new Avengers initiative, though Pepper got really quiet when Tony brought it up. They talked about anything, really. Anything except for what had happened. The battle for Earth, Tony almost dying, Stephen giving him his life force. For an hour, it was as if none of that had happened. 

That was, until, Morgan accidentally hit the ketchup bottle with her elbow, sending it flying off the table and Tony tried to catch it with the arm he didn’t have. He sat, dumbstruck for a moment as Pepper got up quickly to retrieve the ketchup bottle, placing it back on the table and looking to Tony with concern. It was a quiet, “Sorry, Daddy”, from Morgan that pulled him back, giving his daughter a distracted smile and telling her it was okay, though he was still visibly shaken. They pushed past it, while also giving Tony time to recover and come back into his own mind, Pepper keeping a hand on his forearm while asking Stephen how things were at the Sanctum.

After dinner, Pepper took care of loading the dishwasher, insisting Tony go start a movie with Morgan while Stephen offered to help clean up. The sorcerer was putting condiments back in the fridge when he felt Pepper at his elbow, voice hushed so Tony couldn’t hear her from the living room.

“He has a lot of bad little moments like that. Overall, he tries to keep up a positive front, but it wears him down.” She looked distraught, brow pinched, before realizing how Stephen was looking at her and she pulled back. “Sorry, I-I don’t have a lot of people to talk to about it. It’s nice to have a new face around.” Stephen shook his head. He didn’t want her to misinterpret his slight surprise at her confiding in him as disinterest. 

“No, no, don’t worry about it. This has to be really hard on all of you”, he muttered, closing the fridge door and chancing a hand on her shoulder, bewildered by his own bravery. “I’m glad to help out.” She looked relieved by his reaction, turning back to the dishwasher as Stephen rinsed the plates before handing them to her to stack in it. 

“It did remind me though-the thing with the ketchup”, he explained. “Uh, wasn’t he going to get fitted for his arm, like, a month ago?” Pepper gave an understanding nod at his confusion.

“They wanted to do some more updates before offering him that model, though god knows he’ll be making his own updates as soon as he gets it. Apparently their technologist is a genius teenager who gets inspired brainwaves”, she smiled, but it faded quickly. “And then he slipped in the shower and they want to see how he progresses with his speech therapy again before they move forward with the arm.”

“That make sense”, Stephen said, making sure to keep his voice hushed. “It might be frustrating him right now, but that would be a lot for him to handle at once; figuring out a cybernetic arm while not being able to talk without Friday.” Pepper nodded, but didn’t respond otherwise. “I’m sure he’ll be fine”, Stephen rasped in what he hoped was a comforting way. She nodded again and moved back to finish loading the dishwasher. Stephen wiped the counters down, respecting the quiet in the room, but wishing he could offer more. 

“He likes talking with you, you know”, she said suddenly, voice still hushed. Stephen ducked his head to hide the flush he could feel spread over his face, coughing as he handed her a cup from the sink. 

“That’s uh, good-good, yeah. So do I.” She responded with a warm smile and they went back to cleaning up, Pepper offering to make them all tea. When the kitchen was spotless, she thanked him and brought her tea over into the living room, sitting down with Morgan and gesturing Tony towards the porch. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before standing, walking into the kitchen and brushing past Stephen to grab his tea from the counter.

“Shall we, Doc?”, he mumbled, still embarrassed from the ketchup bottle incident, but keeping up a front, nodding towards the screen door. Stephen could only nod in response as he grabbed his own mug and followed him out onto the porch. The night air was cool, making Stephen realize how hot his cheeks where as they settled onto the cushioned seat, Tony pulling a wool blanket from the arm of the bench and spreading it over them both. 

“’S cold out”, Tony said, as if way of an explanation. He had noticed how Stephen jumped under his touch, probably thinking it was in reaction to his scarred hand and Stephen felt guilty. 

“You probably think my hand is-no, Friday, don’t say that, for God sakes!” It sounded like the AI was arguing with herself, but then she spoke and it was clear some of Tony’s innermost thoughts had slipped through. He was obviously embarrassed, shifting on the seat and turning his face away from Stephen. Stephen also realized in that moment why Tony hadn’t had his Friday use his own voice when she spoke for him; he wanted to make it very clear that this wasn’t a permanent arrangement, much like his attitude with the wheelchair. 

“I’m sorry, Boss. I’ll make sure to check with you next time I’m uncertain.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time as far as I’m concerned”, Tony snapped. “I’m not going to be speaking through you for much longer, okay, Fri?”

“Apologies, Boss”, Friday replied, sounding about as apologetic as an AI could. Tony heard the hurt in her tone, looking truly guilty, and looked to the ceiling of the porch.

“It’s okay”, he muttered to the AI through her voice. “I’m sorry. You’re still my girl.”

“Of course”, she replied softly, as if nothing else in the world was so obvious. Tony closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the seat cushion, breathing deeply and slowly. Stephen watched him out of the corner of his eye, letting the quiet of the night wash over them, save for the wind rustling through the pine and willow boughs. Tony’s breathing had become even and Stephen thought he might have fallen asleep until he spoke. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, he was chanting quietly and Stephen felt his heart sink.

“No”, Stephen whispered and Tony lifted his head to look at him, good eye twinkling in the low light. “You don’t need to be sorry. And, just so you know…I’m the last person who would notice anyone’s hand scars”, he said, voice rasping in the same hushed tone. Tony nodded slowly, quietly, reluctant to speak through Friday again. Stephen was hit with a wave of guilt, seeing this vibrant, talkative man reduced to someone who was afraid to speak. It was his fault. His fault that Tony was left with this wrecked body, his brilliant mind trapped in a body that wouldn’t speak the words he wanted, a body that had lost an arm and an eye, a body that was scarred beyond recognition, weak and damaged.

“I’m sorry”, Stephen said, still whispering. “I’m sorry that you can’t talk properly right now. I’m sorry that this happened to you…” He met Tony’s gaze, realizing there were tears trickling down his face, but ignoring them. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault…” Tony’s brow was furrowed, face pinched with grief as he opened his mouth to speak, then remembered Friday.

“Don’t be ridiculous…”, he said softly. “I wouldn’t be able to complain about all of this if you hadn’t…You know what I mean.” He slipped his arm around Stephen’s shoulders and squeezed gently, willing a wet half-laugh from the sorcerer. “Don’t worry so much about it, Doc.” He let his grip on the sorcerer linger for a few moments longer, pulling away slowly before grabbing his lukewarm tea from the coffee table. 

“I kind of can’t help but worry about you now, can I?”, Stephen rasped, half-jokingly. Tony realized he was referring to their now shared life force and his expression froze for a second before he smiled. 

“I guess we can worry about each other, then.”

Stephen grinned quietly, and they finished their tea in relative silence, neither saying anything when their knees brushed together under the blanket, but Stephen didn’t mind the flustered warmth he felt. It was better than the cold autumn evening, better than being alone at the Sanctum. And then after thanking all three of them for dinner and having him over, walking back through the gateway to the Sanctum didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. Yes, the vibrant warmth in his chest faded, but remained weakly, enough that his heart didn’t ache. Enough that he could still feel Tony’s comforting grip around his shoulders, enough to send him off into the first restful sleep he’d had since leaving the Wakandan hospital. 


	6. Hanging By A String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper has been juggling a lot lately, from Tony's nearly constant pain to his crumbling mental state, never mind taking care of a five-year-old. She's nearly at the end of her rope when Stephen is invited over to the Stark cabin again and offers his help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is from Pepper's POV. I hope that doesn't turn anyone off this fic, I just figured it was about time we got a perspective other than Stephen's and it helps paint a more complete picture than Stephen can as a current outsider, or Tony who is trapped in his own mess of a head. 
> 
> (I'm either losing readers or way less people are commenting, but just putting it out there that even a single-word comment makes my day <3<3<3 Let me know you guys are enjoying this or not lmao)

There was a crash as a kitchen chair went sliding backwards across the hardwood floor, hitting the wall with a thud and Pepper looked up from where she was elbow-deep in a sink full of hot water. The dishwasher had been broken for nearly a week and she wasn’t about to bother Tony with it; he was having enough trouble just getting around the house as painlessly as possible. Besides, the repairman would be able to make it out by Thursday.

“Tony, are you okay?” Pepper dried her hands on a towel as she moved from the sink to peer down the hall, her heart dropping and soaring in the same beat as she saw Tony carrying Morgan. He had her wedged in the crook of his left arm, her small arms clinging around his neck with all of her strength, though he struggled with her slight weight.

“Tony, put her down, please”, Pepper said, voice hushed as she tilted her head with a semi-pleading look. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” Something in Tony’s eyes was wounded as he grinned at her, though it looked more like a grimace.

“’S fine, Pep. I got her.” He kissed Morgan’s forehead. “Hey? I got my girl.”

“Can I have a turn?”, Pepper said, arms wide as a last ditch effort. “I’ve only had one Morgan hug today, and that just isn’t enough.” 

Morgan immediately leaned towards her mom, arms opened wide and Pepper saw the flash of panic on Tony’s face as his arm nearly gave out on him and he didn’t have another to catch her with. Pepper scooped her daughter up easily, never with any fear that she would be accidentally dropped, wrapping arms and legs around her mom and burying her face in long, blonde hair. Pepper met Tony’s eyes over their daughter’s head, her heart panging in guilt at the devastated look on his face. He hated not being able to hold her, but he’d hate himself more if any harm ever came to her while she was in his care. He was still the most caring, loving dad Pepper could ever hope for their daughter to have, but his current physical limitations meant there was a lot he couldn’t do with her anymore. 

Pepper gave him an apologetic look, but he brushed it off, kissing her cheek before whispering in Morgan’s ear.

“Want to make some muffins, Moguna?”

“Yes!”, she squeaked excitedly. “Muffins!” 

They moved back into the kitchen, Tony collecting the ingredients and supplies while Morgan sat at the table choosing a recipe from the big cook book they had. Pepper helped Tony when he tried to take down the large mixing bowl from on top of the fridge with his one hand, giving him a look when she took it down and placed it on the kitchen table. He gave her a sheepish look before turning to ask Morgan what she’d decided on.

A lot had changed since the start of their relationship, but Pepper knew there were parts of Tony which where a part of him indefinitely. His stubbornness was one of those parts. Sure, it had driven him relentlessly through his rehab and physical therapy, but it also pushed him to do things which he knew might injure him in his current state, as a matter of pride and independence if nothing else. In those moments, when she wanted to scream at him for being reckless and stupid even after all that had happened, Pepper saw the reckless, floppy-haired 38-year-old who had first created the Iron Man armour. She loved that man, but he also scared her. She was scared she could lose him again, though maybe not so dramatically this time. It could be as simple as slipping in the tub, hitting his head and taking his ability to talk again, as it had, though he could have ended up with a concussion or landed in a coma for all she knew. 

She had almost lost him so many times, Pepper had hoped that domestic life, fatherhood especially, would kill that reckless streak, but those five years after the initial Snap had just buried it. She had seen it whenever he thought about Peter’s death; that fire had been covered in ashes, buried under his heart, pushed underneath a layer of armour and playing possum, but she knew it was still there. It was recklessness, but it was also a desire to do something good, something amazing, like put everything on the line for the boy he loved like a son. 

Pepper had been shocked by the risk he was willing to take to bring the boy back, but not surprised. Tony was a changed man when he was around Peter; he was poised, holding himself as what he thought a father figure should be, but also more relaxed, public persona dropped as he became like pliable putty under the teen’s open awe and affection. It had molded him into a better person, his time with Peter like an answer to a question he had been plagued by his entire life.

But coming back from snapping the gauntlet, back from the dead, really, also re-awakened Tony’s reckless streak. He could truly be alive again, not like the suspended state that arose in those five years when ever he wasn’t around Morgan; half dead because so was half the universe. Guilt ate away at him. And it was now replaced with an almost desperate drive to do more. If he were able to brave the stairs to the basement, Pepper was sure he would be down there right now, tinkering on something even more ludicrous and impossible than time travel. She could have scoffed at herself, thinking that he’d be able to rest once Peter and the rest of the dusted were back. It was almost as if the ridiculous impossibility of what had happened was enough to drive him to insanity. He paced now, even when he was staggering, when he should have been resting his new leg muscles. His doctors assured that it was just his way of adjusting to life after death, but Pepper wasn’t so sure. Everything was reformed. His body was the same, but foreign. This was one of the many processes Doctor Strange had explained while going over exactly how his severed life force had saved Tony. 

Stephen.

Pepper corrected herself mentally. He had insisted they call him Stephen, even though he snapped at everyone else to address him as ‘Doctor' or nothing. Morgan was hellbent on calling him ‘Doc’ and there was nothing anyone could say to sway her, a fact Tony was impishly proud of.

Then there was something that she had been mulling over for a while now. Because the way Tony was around the sorcerer was different than she’d ever seen him act with anyone. He didn’t force his egotistical facade, though she was sure he had at first, instead becoming relaxed and at ease with the other man in a way he only did with people he had known for years, Happy or Rhodey, for example. Those months spent in physiotherapy with Stephen at the Wakandan hospital had been the only days since his Snap that Tony wasn’t in this sort of manic craze, like the world might explode again if he sat still and rested for one minute. But around Stephen, his whole being shifted. He became soft and calm, just wanting to sit and hold Morgan, drinking smoothies while chatting with the sorcerer, as though peace had finally come to him. 

Then they came home and that all changed. 

Tony’s depressive craze had gotten much worse since they came back to the cabin, expect for when he was around Morgan, of course. He would never let his little girl see him in such a state; mind reeling, trapped in his own body, feeling helpless, desperate, wishing he could build an impenetrable shield around his loved ones. He would break down in panic attacks, breath wheezing, tears streaming down his cheeks and Pepper would hold him, telling him everything was okay over and over, holding him in the same position for hours until his arm cramped under his weight. Those were the worst days, when Pepper would call Happy or May to come take Morgan for the afternoon, and of course they where always happy to, but Pepper couldn’t help but wonder how long this process of breaking down would carry on.

It had only been nine weeks since they had left the Wakandan hospital, though it could have been a lifetime. Tony’s mental state seemed to be declining just as quickly as his body healed, though his reckless endeavours caused by his disturbed mind were slowing down his healing process significantly. Just last week he had accidentally sliced his wrist open while cutting fruit for Morgan and thank goodness Pepper had just been in the next room or he would have lost much more blood. Or when he cracked his head on the coffee table because he fell after getting up too quickly from the sofa. Pepper had held a bag of frozen peas on his head while pleading with him to just think before he did things like that, to just be a little more careful. He swore he would try to be more careful, and she wished she could believe him, but there were days when she wondered how in control he was. 

The worst part of Tony falling in the shower was the delay on getting his cybernetic arm fitted. Pepper could see how excited he had been at the idea of a more noticeable improvement in himself, then how disappointed he had been when Doctor Martins had told him they wanted to wait a few more weeks at least before trying out the prosthetic, to see when his speech came back. The ride back on the jet had been painfully quiet, and not just because Tony had lost his ability to talk again. He had stared out the window the entire flight, and Pepper could imagine the angry, dejected fire in his eyes as he watched the clouds, imagining himself back in his suit, formidable and fully capable. 

“Careful, Mogs, you’re gonna get flour in your hair and look all grey like Dad.” 

Pepper turned from the sink to see Morgan attempting to measure flour from a bag about as big as her, sending white puffs of flour clouds up in the air as she did. Pepper couldn’t help but feel relief blossom in her chest at seeing Tony like this, but it was short-lived. He was happy in the moment, gently helping Morgan while ‘she’ made muffins, but she could feel his unrest bubbling up underneath like a thunderstorm brewing. He had been happier, obviously, since his voice had trickled back in a little under a week ago, a few days after Stephen had been over for-.

Pepper almost dropped the plate she was drying as the realization hit her, turning her back so Tony wouldn’t catch wind of the mental gymnastics she was working through. It had to just be a coincidence, right? But then why had he been so calm at the Wakandan hospital, where Stephen had also been for months, and then such a wreck the moment they got home? Then his voice had returned almost immediately after seeing the sorcerer again, after being apart for two months of mental hell. She set the plate down and turned to look at Tony again, not trusting her hands.

Yes. There it was. Pepper was no sorcerer herself, but she could feel…there was a sort of difference in Tony since they had come home that wasn’t just his mood. It almost felt like there was a piece of him missing right now, and then, when Stephen was near, like at the hospital or dinner last week, he became whole again. It seemed so glaringly obvious now that Pepper was almost embarrassed for not noticing it sooner. She gave herself a break, though, considering what she’d been dealing with lately. Maybe it had been a little distracting for her to see her husband connect so closely with someone who was a practical stranger, on the porch bench where they always shared their morning coffee, no less. 

**_No, it was fine_**, she thought, putting the last of the cups away in the cupboard. Tony had been happy. Was happy. But she hadn’t seen him at such peace with anyone but Morgan in…well, five years. Peter was the only other person Tony showed a semblance of his old self with anymore; it was like adults stressed him out, reminded him of all that had happened. But if he could block out what happened with Peter, the teenager was like a salve to his burning heart, his frantic desperation, though he insisted on almost constant physical contact when ever the boy was around. Peter didn’t mind, of course. A squeeze around the shoulders from Tony’s one good arm, playing with his hair while they watched tv, forehead kisses, hugs at any given chance, it all helped remind the teen that he was solid and alive again. Pepper made sure they both had as many opportunities as possible to spend time together, as she could see how healing it was for them. They’d both come back from the dead, after all, and she couldn’t imagine what it had done to the seventeen-year-old’s mental health, never mind the fifty three-year-old who was still treating him like a ticking time bomb. 

There had been times, when Peter was staying the night for a sleep over, that she’d find them both in the guest room bed, Peter waking both himself and Tony up with his screams as nightmares took over his mind. Tony would go to him, wrap him up in his embrace and blankets while pressing the boy’s head to his heart. He’d quietly remind him how to breath as Peter sobbed, finally crying himself to sleep. Pepper would find them in the morning, Peter holding on to Tony so tightly that he was almost a part of him, legs and arms curled around him, pulling him closer, face buried in his good shoulder while Tony cocooned him with his whole body in turn. 

The mornings after bad nights where almost as bad, the two moving in tandem as Pepper practically forced them to eat something. They usually managed to eat half of what she made them, spending most of the rest of the day practically sitting on top of each other on the sofa, watching Disney movies. But it was okay, Pepper thought. Much more preferable than Tony spending the day in the fetal position, unable to move or talk or breathe properly or think, while Peter faced a similar response in New York. May would try to help as much as she could. Pepper knew, as the two women had gotten very close in the past six months, that May did everything in her power to help Peter, but she was often left feeling extremely powerless when her comfort had little effect on her boy. The women empathized strongly with one another as they navigated the breakdowns Tony and Peter were having, realizing dejectedly that it was hard to understand what the two most important people in their lives were going through. It was even harder to accept that, more often than not, Tony and Peter’s only comfort was each other. 

Pepper was often frustrated with how helpless she felt in her inability to pull Tony out of the deep end once he had gone over. His bad anxiety attacks in the past had always been the worst they’d had to deal with, but this was different. This was Tony leaving his mind while being trapped in his broken body, angry and scared and lost, floating on a life raft in the middle of a choppy sea while Pepper could only yell to him from shore. 

Tony’s hand on her waist pulled Pepper out of her thoughts.

“You okay, Pep?” She smiled in return, hand drifting to the unscarred side of his face since the right side was still healing.

“Just thinking. I’m all good.” She gestured to their tray of muffins, chocolate chip batter almost overflowing the paper wrappers. “Your muffins ready for the oven, sweetheart?”, she asked Morgan, who was focused on cleaning out the mixing bowl with one finger.

“Yes, Mommy! We made chocwate chip ones!” Pepper smiled as she wiped her daughter’s batter-smeared cheeks with a napkin.

“Chocolate chip? Oh, yummy. Good choice, Morgan.”

“They’re Petey’s favwite!”, she told Pepper excitedly as the tray was deposited in the preheated oven. Pepper’s heart swelled at Morgan’s nickname for Peter, watching Tony break into a huge grin.

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Can Petey come over for dinner tonight?” Tony wiped some batter from her nose with a smile.

“Sorry, Petey says he has a lot of homework tonight, but he’ll be able to come over on Friday.”

“Okay! Can we go outside now?” Pepper could see the desperation pass over Tony’s face at the thought, his legs already shaking as he leaned on the counter. It had only been twenty minutes since they started making muffins, but even the strain of standing for such a short period of time was too much.

“Uh, how about a movie or a book, Moguna? Maybe we can go outside after dinner, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy”, Morgan agreed, only slightly disappointed as she retrieved a picture book from the coffee table and settled on the sofa. Pepper noticed Tony’s tremors had gotten worse as he tried to will himself to start walking towards the living room, but continued to cling to the counter with his one weak hand.

“Tony…”, she muttered, reaching a hand out to steady him, though he gave her a defensive look that chilled her spine. “We still have the wheel chair in the basement if you want to-.”

“Don’t even go there, Pep”, he nearly growled, pain making his eyes water. Pepper tried to swallow the tight feeling in her chest caused by his angry tone, turning to rummage through the cupboard.

“I’m getting your pain meds, then.” She brought the metal box down and Tony balked at the suggestion, even though sweat had begun to trickle down his neck, entire body shaking as his muscles spasmed.

“No, I’m…not taking any more than…I…need.”

“Well, you need them right now”, Pepper replied steadily, brow lowered. This was the stubbornness that caused him more pain than necessary. She knew he tried to limit his pain medication because he wanted to stay mentally sharp, especially around Morgan, but she argued that he couldn't do much with her anyway when he was writhing in pain. She saw the angry spark in his eyes fade as he relented with a nod, and she poured a glass of water from the tap, putting the pills in his mouth and helping him take a drink.

“Sorry”, he rasped as she slung his arm over her shoulders, steadying him as they made their way to the couch. Pepper didn’t even acknowledge him. He apologized a lot now a days, for every little thing he said because he felt guilty for being in such a bad mood constantly. It was the pain, she understood, she didn’t want him to feel bad. But it also grated on them both when he was constantly snapping, sometimes with pride, his apologies becoming desperately meaningless as they became more frequent.

Morgan made room on the couch as her mom dropped Tony on to it as gently as they could both manage, but his dead weight was a little too much for her. He relaxed on the cushions with a sigh, body stiff as he looked up at Pepper like a wounded dog, broken and apologetic. It made Pepper’s stomach turn. He noticed Morgan looking between them with concern and Tony forced a gentle smile as he made himself shift into a looser position.

“How about you show me your book, sweetie?” Morgan was happier as she nestled closer to her dad, careful not to touch his still-bandaged amputation site, pointing out the characters on the pages to him. Pepper left them, going back to the kitchen to finish washing the mixing bowl from the muffins. She was rinsing the large ceramic bowl when a thought suddenly seeped into her mind, like ink from a cheap pen bleeding into paper. Drying her hands on a cloth, she walked back into the living room, holding on to the top of an armchair as she watched her family for a few moments. 

“Tony, I was thinking…” He turned to look up at her, and she still found herself surprised looking into his blind eye, though she didn’t show it.

“Yep?”

“Why don’t you invite Stephen over again? Maybe Friday, when Peter’s over too? That would be nice.” She was surprised when Tony’s brow furrowed, giving her a confused look. 

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“What? No. I mean, he’s a little odd, but I enjoyed having him over.” Pepper had been wary of Stephen and his intentions at first, but weeks at the hospital with the man, seeing how sweet and caring he was, especially with her family, was enough for her to warm up to him quickly. “Where did that come from? I don’t dislike him.”

“But you don’t like him either”, Tony countered, brow raised. He looked grim, face set like he was proving a point. Pepper’s head was swimming as she tried to discern where this was coming from. Did Tony not like him? Was he putting on a show around him? No, impossible. He was the most relaxed he had been since his Snap whenever the sorcerer was around.

“I like him, he’s really nice and interesting”, she assured. 

“Yeah…”, Tony said, still looking skeptical. “That’s not what your face was saying when he was over last week.”

“When?”, Pepper prodded, scanning her mind for when she might have let her expression slip. It hit her in the same second that Tony said it.

“When he and I were out on the porch after dinner. I could see you through the window and you looked uncomfortable when ever you looked over. I thought maybe you didn’t like him.”

“I was just thinking. I was worried about you.”

“I was fine”, Tony said, expression softening as he regarded her. “And, yeah, I’d love to have him over again. I’ll call, see if he’s busy.”

“Who are you talking about? Petey?”, Morgan asked suddenly, no longer enthralled by her book. Tony laughed, though Pepper could see him wince as his ribs hurt from the movement.

“No. No way. We know we love Petey. We were just talking about someone else Mommy and Daddy know”, he said, giving Pepper a pointed look, and Morgan turned back to her book with an accepting nod. 

It took a while for Tony’s pain meds to take full affect, but once they had, he grabbed his phone and called the sorcerer. Their conversation was nearly over by the time Pepper came back inside from giving vegetable scraps to Gerald, but she caught the tail end of it. 

“Yeah, as long as you don’t get lost in that library of yours.” Tony was laughing. He hadn’t laughed for real in months. “Okay, okay, I get it, it’s Wong’s. I won’t make that mistake again.” He paused, smile frozen on his face as he listened to the sorcerer’s response and Pepper felt her heart fluttering in joy and jealousy at the sight. “No, no. Pep wants you over.” Tony glanced at her. “Yeah, she suggested it.” He paused again, smile softening as he listened to the sorcerer. “Don’t get all bashful on me, Doc. Yeah. Okay, see you then. Bye”

“So, two extra places for dinner on Friday?”, Pepper asked, out of nerves more than anything.

“Yep. Team Space Donut is going to be reunited at long last”, Tony chuckled, eyes twinkling like they hadn’t in a while, while turning back to Morgan and finishing reading to her. 

*****

The rest of the week went by quickly, the repair man came, the dishwasher was fixed, but Pepper found herself standing at the sink again, elbow deep in soapy water as she watched Tony push Morgan on the tire swing. It was Friday, and a quiet family meal of casserole and garlic bread had turned into a dinner with guests, one of whom Pepper wasn’t so sure she wanted their company anymore. Stephen was a kind and gracious guest, sure, but she couldn’t stand the way thinking about how Tony acted around him made her skin prickle. Even after calling the sorcerer, Tony had seemed invigorated. Alive. 

It was the pang of jealousy that threw her off more than anything else. Pepper only wished she could make Tony feel like that, to help draw him out of this dark cave his Snap had dragged him in to. On his worst days, she was the only one here to listen to his sobs, his rambling about the gross cruelty of it all, but not what had happened to him. No, he was worried about Peter, and what the boy had faced, how it might affect him for the rest of his life and how it was Tony’s fault for dragging him into it in the first place. 

Guilt ate away at him. 

He cried for the world Morgan was going to grow up into, something she almost had to do with out him. He almost left her behind, he’d sob over and over, and he felt tremendously guilty about that too. Pepper tried to make it better, soothe him with words of reason: Peter is okay, he’s alive and well and he has you and he’ll get therapy if he needs it. And Morgan is strong and will grow up fine because she does still have her dad and she loves you, so everything will be okay, right? But all the while Pepper couldn’t help but thinking, once in a while, **_What about me? You almost left me too. Why isn’t that one of the things keeping you up all night?_** But she could never say it, and after months of misery, she accepted that the only thing that could make Tony feel remotely better, the only thing that could pull him out of his spiral was Peter. It was to do with shared experiences, she reasoned. They had been through hell and back together, of course they made each other feel a little better.

Pepper was pulled out of her thoughts as Morgan came charging through the screen door.

“Doc’s here!”, she announced excitedly, careening past the kitchen and up the stairs, probably to grab a toy from her room. Pepper looked out the window to see the sparking remains of a gateway just closing behind the tall man now standing beside her husband. She could practically feel the huge grin radiating from Tony even from here. She wanted to run out and hold on to Tony’s arm like that day they had first met Stephen, during their jog in the park, but she figured that might look a little desperate.

*****

Dinner went over smoothly, especially once Peter got there, driven from Queens by Happy, of course. The good energy surrounding those three once they were reunited, as Tony had so jokingly put earlier that week, was practically contagious and Pepper couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious Peter respected Stephen, felt at ease around him, safe even, though that always increased tenfold whenever Tony put a protective arm around him. 

The garlic bread Pepper had made received abundant praise, while Stephen seemed to appreciate it especially as finger food meant he didn’t have to navigate cutlery with his shaking hands. He meant to make appreciative eye contact with her several times, she could feel it, but expertly avoided his gaze as she looked everywhere else but, usually by helping Morgan cut up her casserole. 

After dinner, when the kitchen was clean, and everyone was settled in the living room with a movie, Pepper was scooping bowls of ice cream for dessert when she felt a presence behind her. Too quickly, she spun to face the sorcerer who had practically snuck up on her and she couldn’t help the frown that passed over her face.

“Need anything?”, she said, too shortly and immediately regretted it at the hurt look he tried to hide. 

“I, uh…just seeing if you need any help. Sorry if I startled you.”

“I’m fine”, she said, a little more calmly this time, figuring he wouldn't be able to scoop ice cream on account of his hands anyway. 

“Okay. Um, dinner was very good, by the way. I don’t know if the inclusion of finger food was intentional, but I appreciate it anyway.”

“I might have had your hands in mind”, she admitted, because she really had cared about whether he was comfortable in their house, and this threw her off more than anything. There was a beat of silence as she heard him shift, moving beside her.

“I was wondering, uh…whether you might need a bit of help-.”

“I can handle the ice cream, Stephen. Just go sit down with everyone else”, she interrupted a little impatiently. She was surprised when he grinned at her, soft, but still guarded.

“I actually meant with other things. Uh, housework, for instance. Not saying your house doesn’t look amazing, I just thought you deserve a break.” Pepper swallowed as she set the spoon down carefully.

“Housework, hmm? That’s all you had in mind?”, she asked skeptically, levelling him with her gaze. The tall sorcerer shifted under her direct stare and fiddled with his sweater for a second before answering. 

“Okay, I admit I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with Tony and Morgan. I miss the time we got to spend together at the hospital, really.” Pepper smiled knowingly and Stephen had the grace to look sheepish. “But I was also thinking a lot about how you fought in that battle too and, even though you didn’t get seriously injured, you deserve a break. You deserve some help. If you want it”, he added quickly. 

Pepper turned his words over in her head, noticing the bowls of ice cream starting to melt slightly. She was at the end of her rope, though she would never admit that to Stephen. He was still mostly a stranger to her, despite how close he’d gotten with Tony and Morgan while they were all at the hospital. But, just thinking of the depressive episodes Tony had been having, how severely it was hindering his physical progress, in sharp contrast with how happy he was spending time around the sorcerer, the weight in her chest felt a little lighter. 

“This has nothing to do with the conversation you and Tony had on the porch last week?”, she asked, though her gut told her this was true. Stephen put on a good show of looking thrown off by her question, ducking his head as he thread his fingers together. 

“We were just talking about my life force, and some of the effects it might have on him, that’s all.”

“Like how he feels like shit unless you’re around?”, Pepper supplied dryly, surprised by the genuine shock on Stephen’s face this time.

“W-what?”, he managed, blue-green eyes wide as he looked at her almost blankly. “He-he’s been - are you sure it’s not just depression or mood swings? I mean, he’s been through a lot, there’s a good chance-.”

“No, I’m sure of it. I only thought of it on Monday when I got him to call you. And I was right.” Pepper shook her head. She hated that she was right. “He’s been doing better this week than he has in months. It’s like just thinking about you-.” 

Pepper cut herself off as tears threatened at the backs of her eyes. She hated thinking how she couldn’t even comfort her own husband in the aftermath of his Snap, but some strange man could. She wanted to resent him for it, and would have been able to if not for the concerned look he was giving her, green eyes wide. 

“That’s - well, that’s ironic, really”, he said with a nervous chuckle. “Last week, I was telling him how, uh, I haven’t been doing so well, since…everything because of my split life force.”

“Really?” Pepper knew he had been unwell; there wasn’t any way to hide how much weight he had lost since they last saw him in Wakanda, but she didn’t know of any of the particulars and hadn’t been concerned enough to ask until she knew it affected Tony. 

“Yeah, I mean, you summed it up pretty well. Just…feeling like shit constantly.”

“And being around each other fixes it?”

“Uh, helps reduce the symptoms, yeah. That’s…pretty much it.”

Pepper was frozen and she could feel Stephen watching her, but she didn’t care, steadying herself on the counter as her mind spun.

“Right, uh, w-we don’t need to figure anything out right now. Or at all…”, Stephen started, but Pepper put a complacent hand on his arm.

“It’s okay. Let’s just have ice cream for now. We’ll talk with Tony later.” The sorcerer allowed himself a fleeting grin and Pepper felt herself relaxing a little. He was kind and gentle and made Tony and Morgan laugh. Maybe there wasn’t any need to be jealous, maybe she could open up a little, to let him into their little world in the cabin on the lake. 


	7. Hold On For Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is going to Wakanda to get his cybernetic arm attached. Things don't go according to plan. Tony and Stephen realize that their bond through their life force is getting much stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this fic was originally planned to be a Dr.Pepperony fanfiction because I wanted to keep the peace and all that. Then I remembered that I really dislike Pepper and, this being my Endgame healing fic, I wanted to do something that makes me happy. So "I Knew You For A Day" is now officialy, 100% IRONSTRANGE FANFICTION. However, this does NOT mean I will be downplaying Pepper's importance as Morgan's mom, because that would just be shitty of me. Keep reading if you want to see how I plan on getting from Pepperony to Ironstrange ;)
> 
> John Mulaney voice: I will pepper in the fact that I have abandoned Dr.Pepperony.
> 
> I loved writing how Tony and Stephen can feel each other’s physical state and how they’re experiencing a lot of the same physical symptoms right now, like almost blacking out if they get up or kneel down too quickly lmao
> 
> Happy being a fussy mother hen is my favourite. I love him to death, in case you haven't noticed.
> 
> As much as this chapter is a little angsty overall, there are some parts that I think are really funny. Hope you guys enjoy!! <3<3<3

Tony’s chest hurt.

His head hurt, his arm stump hurt, his ribcage hurt. It wasn’t even 6:00 in the morning, but he already knew today was going to be one of the bad days. He wondered mildly if it was anxiety, as he’d been up, tossing and turning for most of the night. He’d left his and Pepper’s bed just before 1:00 am, not wanting to keep her up as well, when she would be the one worried for hours on end in the waiting room tomorrow. **_Today_**, he corrected himself. He was finally getting his prosthetic arm today.

He hadn’t slept much since he clumsily crept down the stairs a little after midnight, dragging a duvet onto the sofa with him. He could have gone into the guest bedroom, but the mattress was too soft for his back with no one else in the bed, and it felt wrong without Peter there. So he had gingerly arranged himself on the sofa, making sure he wasn’t putting any pressure on his stump.

He hated it. He hated it to the point that he would avoid looking at it, hoping that maybe if he ignored it, it wouldn’t be real anymore. But his chest fluttered with anxiety and excitement thinking about his surgery today. Tony knew learning how to work his mechanic arm would be extremely difficult. It would hurt. It would hurt more than he could even imagine right now, drugged up on pain meds that he’d taken a little earlier than usual and tucked under a huge blanket. He knew it would make losing his arm more real. It would be definite, concrete. 

**_You’re a cyborg now_**, his mind mocked at his future self. But what ever followed his surgery today would be infinitely more bearable than facing the empty spot beside the right side of his body. He looked lopsided, he felt lopsided, it was distinctly clear that something was missing, that something was wrong. His balance was terrible. Tony had spent his entire life up until this point with two arms. He’d gotten used to walking while having two arms, sleeping with two arms, eating with two arms. Now, the most accurate analogy he could come up with was a one-winged butterfly, except he felt crippled, weak, useless, and not nearly as beautiful. 

The worst part, as every single one of his slew of doctors had warned, was the phantom aches. 

It was like his body was missing the part of it that was lost, screaming in confusion whenever familiar brain pathways told him to grab something with his dominant hand, only for the scarred stump to twitch, leaving Tony in a fit of heart palpitations. Sometimes he could feel his lost arm, and imagined the nerves running through it, wiggling his fingers in his mind, stopping only once he realized his eyes were blurred with tears. 

Tony breathed as deeply as he dared, shifting and stretching his trembling leg muscles. He had memorized the pattern in the wood on the ceiling, anything to avoid focusing on his stump, though it was difficult when it was on fire. He sifted through his mind, searching for anything to distract him from the pain, hoping his pain meds would numb him sooner than later. 

Stephen.

Tony blinked in the quiet dark of the room, simultaneously surprised and not surprised by what his mind had landed on. His mind had been wandering to the sorcerer a lot lately, he realized, pressing his unscarred cheek into his pillow as he turned gently onto his good side. 

Friday night dinners with Stephen and Peter had become a weekly habit, especially after Pepper’s revelation about Tony’s portion of the shared life force, and the resulting conversation. It was obvious that it benefited both men when they spent time together, physically, and mentally, so Pepper reasoned that they should do just that and see how much contact was necessary, for future reference if nothing else. It had been awkward at first, only because of the knowledge that their shared life force meant they were practically bound for life. But they quickly forgot that premise and fell back into something similar to the comfortable camaraderie they’d had back at the hospital, though it was different than it had been. 

Tony would have never expected the stone cold sorcerer from Titan to be there catch him when he stumbled on the last step, or be willing to help make dinner no matter how his hands shook. Stephen was just as skilled at putting up a distant front as Tony, a completely different man from the one who he had first met. There was a softness about him now, something careful and measured, but oh, so free and vibrant when ever he smiled or laughed for real. Tony could see something in his eyes, in the unguarded moments, an entire life of loneliness and self-loathing, though he didn’t know that’s what he was seeing. 

Their one-on-one conversations were his favourite, he admitted secretly to himself. He had never had someone who could keep up with him so well, jab for jab, witty contortions melded into rapid fire discussion that didn’t betray their ruined physical state. They bounced ideas and comments and thoughts of one another, rapid fire or slow and methodical, depending on the topic, flowing together like a leaf dancing on the current of a river, fluid and natural. And something in Tony told him that they would still be so evenly matched, even without the shared life force.

When Stephen had started coming over more often, the change in both men had been tangible, the change so sudden yet smooth that they had barely noticed it. Tony was so relieved to finally feel truly alive again, that he barely stopped twice to marvel at the wonder of it, he was so wrapped up in how right it all felt. Stephen’s reaction had been just as positive, though it manifested more in his body. He had expressed to Tony how he was relieved to be able to eat normally again, his body finally accepting food after over two months of starving. With increased proximity to Tony, his mood also improved drastically, as he had told the other man of his depressed state at the Sanctum, though Tony had an inkling it wasn’t only to do with their life force. Any conversation they had together, there would be those ridiculous green-blue eyes twinkling, smile lines creased in a way that was almost beautiful, Tony found himself thinking. The man was a piece of art, even when he hadn’t eaten in months, though he gained weight back quickly with his and Pepper’s cooking, always helping with the clean up, but resting with Tony afterwards as he was still incredibly frail. 

Quiet footsteps coming down the stairs pulled Tony out of his thoughts and he propped himself up to peer over the arm of the sofa, catching sight of Morgan gripping the rail as she reached the last step.

“Daddy?” 

“Hey, Moguna. You’re up early.” Tony reached his arm out of the covers, lifting them and gesturing for her to climb into the pocket of warmth. “Come snuggle, baby girl.” She happily obliged, a tumble of purple pyjamas as she climbed onto the sofa, moving more gently as she nestled against her dad’s chest. Tony hummed in contentment as he pulled the duvet back around them both, trapping their body heat in as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “What’s got you up at this time, sweetheart?”

“My tummy hurts”, she grumbled, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, clearly tired, but unable to sleep. He held her closer, nuzzled her hair as he made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. Tony pressed a kiss to her forehead, noticing how her temple was unusually warm against his lips, a flicker of worry igniting in his chest. Something in the back of his mind told him whatever was wrong was a little more serious than just an upset stomach, but he didn’t want to scare his little girl. 

“Aw, my poor girl. Probably from all that ice cream you ate yesterday, hm?” The only response was a small groan lost in his shoulder. A text alert came through on Tony’s phone and, recognizing Rhodey’s customized bling, he made himself reach for it. The screen was ridiculously bright in the still dark dawn of the room and Tony squinted for a few seconds before he could open the text, ignoring how his blind eye was unaffected by the intense glow of the screen.

_Hey, I’ve got a dumbass council meeting today that I can’t get out of. I won’t make it to the hospital before your surgery, Tones._

Despite the tangible pang of disappointment in his chest, Tony couldn’t help but feel a little spark of warm relief at the nickname. Some things would never change.

_Don’t worry, honey bear. I’ll survive one day without you._

He placed the phone on his chest, waiting for the perfectly-punctuated response. He’d gotten pretty fast at texting with one thumb.

_Still wish I could be there. Happy’s got the jet ready for you, right?_

_Yep. And don’t worry. I’ll already have a circus sitting in the waiting room for me with Pep, Morgan, and a hysterical Happy._

_But what’s a circus without a platypus? :(_

Tony let out a huff of laughter that made Morgan stir from where she’d fallen back asleep beside him.

_Just 3 people twiddling their thumbs for 9 hours…_

_lol See you when you get out._

_Of course you will. Love you, platypus._

_Love you, Tones._

Tony wasn’t surprised by the tears gathered in the corner of his good eye, and there wasn’t anyone to hide them from so he let them fall. Damn Rhodey for making him emotional even though he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. They were always open with each other, but he could practically feel Rhodey’s worry through the phone and it made him sick to his stomach. The older man had been the only constant in Tony’s life since he was a teenager and like a big brother, Rhodey had always taken care of him. He had always been the calm and level-headed one, so when he was worried, so was Tony. 

Tears had soaked a dark spot on his t shirt and Tony patted at it numbly, accidentally nudging Morgan who gave a small frown and rubbed her eyes as she sat up.

“Sorry, Moguna.”

“My tummy hurts really bad”, she whined quietly. Tony sat up and brushed her hair back so he could see her face properly, gauging how much pain she was in. Her forehead was alarmingly hot under his palm.

“Where does it hurt?” She frowned plaintively while pointing just to the right of her navel before trying to burrow back into his side. “Hold on, why don’t we go to the kitchen and get some ginger ale, hmm? See if that helps.” Slowly, Tony shifted himself off the sofa, groaning softly as he stood and held a hand out to Morgan. She took it, but curled in on herself as soon as she tried to stand.

“Daddy, it hurts!” Tony quickly dropped to his knees, immediately regretting it as his vision swam, but focused on his daughter.

“Still the same spot?” She nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna get Mommy.” He wrapped the duvet around her shoulders without jostling her. “You stay here all cosy, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.” Tony nearly had to pull himself up the stairs with his good arm, legs shaking. He tripped about halfway up, regaining his balance and padding the rest of the way to his and Pepper’s bedroom. Pepper reflexively swatted at him when he shook her shoulder.

“Wake up, honey, please. Pep, wake up, c’mon.”

“Tony, what the hell? We don't have to leave for Wakanda for another hour.” Tony shook her shoulder again.

“No, Morgan needs to go to the hospital. I think she has appendicitis.” Pepper shot up in bed, fighting the tangle of sheets as she tried to step on to the floor before her legs were free.

“What?! What do you mean appendicitis?” Tony took a step back to give her room to stand up.

“I mean she’s showing the symptoms of appendicitis and we need to get her to the hospital incase it might rupture.”

“You’re a doctor now, are you?”, Pepper grumbled as she struggled into a pair of jeans. She paused as she noticed the edge in her own tone. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just early and you scared me.”

“It’s okay”, Tony responded, following her down the stairs. “She’s on the sofa. She came to see me when her stomach started hurting and she had a bit of a fever. She fell asleep for a bit, but it was worse when she woke up.” Pepper nodded and sat down beside Morgan, going through the usual list of questions they asked her whenever she wasn’t feeling well. After some gentle questions and comfort, Pepper agreed with Tony’s amateur diagnoses.

“What are we going to do?”, she asked suddenly. “She obviously can’t go on the jet like this, we need to get her to the hospital here. But that means you’ll be going to Wakanda by yourself.”

“I’ve got Happy. It’ll be fine, Pep”, he reassured, hand on her shoulder, surprised when she stood suddenly to come face to face with him. 

“You’re getting a cybernetic limb attached to you, Tony. I’m not letting you go by yourself.”

“I’m not on my own. Happy’s coming, you know that.” Pepper looked like he had personally insulted her this time.

“I am your wife, I am not going to be accused of abandoning you when you’re having a huge surgery.”

“For our daughter, who might also need surgery? Yes, I think you are”, Tony responded, a little more forcefully. 

“I need surgwery?”, Morgan interrupted, eyes wide in horror, reminding her parents that she was still there and extremely capable of hearing their conversation. Pepper dropped back onto the sofa beside her, putting a comforting arm around her daughter.

“No, no, baby. Daddy’s just being silly. But I think we should go see Doctor Rebecca so she can make your tummy feel better, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.” 

With this conclusion, Pepper gave Tony an uncomfortable look torn between frustration and pity. He returned the look with a smile that fell short. Feeling guilty for scaring Morgan, Tony turned to the kitchen, not hungry, but needing a few minutes alone with his thoughts. His legs were shaking as he leaned against the counter, pain meds wearing off already. The clock on the wall told him it was still far too soon to take any more and Tony groaned audibly, thinking of what the long flight to Wakanda would be like off of the drugs. His phone chimed in his pocket and he grabbed it, expecting Happy, surprised when ‘Doc’ showed up on the screen instead. 

_Good morning. Mind if I swing by before you leave? _

Tony felt relief flood his chest, typing as fast as he could with his one thumb.

_They let you leave Hogwarts?_

_Ha. Ha._

_Of course you can come by._

Tony shuffled back into the living room, legs numb, to find Pepper on the phone with the doctor’s office, making an emergency appointment for Morgan with her GP. He sat down on the sofa beside Morgan, gently putting his arm around her while his legs trembled with the relief of no longer supporting his weight.

“Doc’s gonna come for a little bit”, he told her and something in her eyes brightened.

“Can he make me better?” Tony laughed a little despite himself.

“No, honey, but Doctor Rebecca will. She’ll make your tummy feel better. Alright?” He kissed her temple gently, careful not to jostle her. Pepper hung up and turned towards the back door immediately.

“Morgan, honey, let’s get your coat on. We’re going right to the hospital.” Tony stood as Pepper went to the back door to grab their coats, walking in the opposite direction towards the front door to grab their day bag. His leg muscles ached as he walked, making his gate stiff, a switch in his chest flipping as a tremor pulled at the fabric between dimensions, his gaze automatically flicking up to look out the front window. 

The now familiar ring of sparking gold appeared on the front lawn, Stephen stepping through though it was obvious he still wasn’t able to conjure the gateway himself, as Tony spotted Wong on the other side of the luminous circle. Tony made himself wait for Stephen to reach the door before opening it, but not giving him the chance to try and knock loudly enough with his damaged hands. He was flooded with a soothing wave of warmth, like a balm to the soul, his anxiety-induced heart palpitations slowing as he met the sorcerer’s gentle smile.

“Hey, Doc”, Tony grinned. “C’mon in.”

“Thanks”, Stephen rumbled as he followed Tony back inside, a too-large denim jacket hanging on his still underweight frame. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous”, Tony admitted in one breath without making eye contact, pushing past it as he gestured towards the living room. “But then Morgan decided to be the princess of good timing and get herself some appendicitis. So, we’re trying to figure that out right now”, he explained, heart thumping as Morgan’s face lit up upon seeing the sorcerer.

“Hi, Doc”, she greeted, a little more subdued than usual from the pain in her abdomen. Stephen settled on the sofa beside her after a moment of hesitation, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, darling. I heard you’re having a bit of tummy trouble, is that right?” He continued at her nod. “That’s too bad. Let’s get you to the doctor’s and get you fixed up, hmm?” He looked up to Tony. “She’s not going to be able to go on the jet, I take it?”

“No. And Pep doesn’t want to abandon me since we were supposed to be leaving in-”, he checked his watch, “About an hour.

“I can text Wong and ask him to open a gateway to Wakanda, if you’d like”, Stephen offered as if it were the most simple and straight-forward thing in the world. “Morgan can be treated at the Wakandan hospital, your surgery can occur as scheduled, and Pepper can be there for both of you.” Tony couldn’t control the relieved huff that left him, grinning slightly.

“That would be amazing. You’re a life saver, Houdini.”

“Now that’s offensive”, Stephen smirked in return. “I’ll let you know when I’m reduced to being an illusionist with slight of hand and escapism as hobbies.”

“Stephen?” Pepper’s voice came from behind them in the hall. “What are you doing here?” The sorcerer stood quickly, almost as if he wanted to show he wasn’t doing Morgan any harm. Tony put a comforting hand on his wife’s arm as he took Morgan’s coat from her.

“He was just stopping by to check in, but turns out he’s the answer to our dilemma. Stephen’s going to open a gateway to Wakanda for us, so you can still be around for my surgery.” Pepper paused in shock for a moment, before her assertive mom instincts kicked in.

“That’s - thank you, Stephen. Let’s get going, then.”

It took several minutes of packing, grabbing required bags and coats before they all made it onto the front lawn, Stephen texting Wong, hoping he had his phone on him. Tony also sent a quick text to Happy, telling him to kibosh the use of the jet, but to get in touch so Wong could get him to Wakanda too. The sorcerer insisted he carry Tony’s designated hospital duffel bag, thought Tony kept Morgan’s day bag slung over his shoulder, letting Pepper carry their daughter since neither man was able to in their current condition. 

“Impeccable timing, by the way, Doc.” Tony elbowed him lightly. “You don’t usually ever text that early.”

“I could feel that you were awake”, Stephen admitted and Tony couldn't decide if a dusting of pink brushed the sorcerer’s cheekbones or if it was just a play of the low light. Stephen blinked as he noticed the strange look Pepper was giving him. “Sorry, I guess that’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I’ll try not to do it again.”

“It’s kinda cool, actually”, Tony mumbled as he passed him, stepping forward as he noticed a gateway opening up from the Sanctum. Wong stepped through, giving Stephen a look which Tony couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of, before greeting Tony with a wordless, but respectful nod. “We really appreciate this, Wong. Not sure where we’d be without your help.”

“Don’t worry about it”, Wong replied, almost annoyed by Tony’s sincerity, turning to open another gateway which revealed the front doors of the Wakandan hospital. Pepper stepped through with Morgan warily but steadfastly, both men following her with the bags. Tony was thrown off when Stephen tried to pass off the duffel bag to him with an almost sheepish look, looking between the gateway and the sorcerer before his tongue could catch up to his mind.

“You can stick around if you want, Doc.” Tony gestured back through the gateway to where Wong was watching them. “Unless you’ve got Sanctum stuff to do, whatever-.”

“Really?” Stephen wasn’t confused by the offer like Tony thought he might be, instead looking hopefully uncertain. 

“Yeah, I need someone to keep an eye on me until Happy gets here.” Tony could practically feel the pulsing relief and joy coming from Stephen, a sort of warm thrill of solidity and pleasure.

“You coming, Strange?”, Wong asked through the gateway, though he knew the answer.

“Not yet. I’ll text you later, if that’s okay.”

“Yep”, Wong replied shortly. “Let me know once you get a hold of your friend and I’ll get him here”, he said, referring to Happy, and Tony nodded.

“Will do. Thanks, Wong”, he said, and the gateway snapped shut.

Tony made the mistake of glancing at Stephen in the same moment that the sorcerer was looking at him, eyes too soft and vulnerable for a second before they looked away from each other. Trailing Pepper into the hospital, they found her already completed Morgan’s check in at the reception desk, telling Tony what room they were in, who imparted a kiss to them both before they disappeared down one of the many long halls. 

“It’s kind of weird to be back here”, Stephen muttered, looking around as he held the duffel bag, letting Tony root around in it as he looked for his tablet which had his surgery sign in forms on it.

“Yeah”, Tony snorted lightly, glancing around as he thought back to almost seven months ago. “Hey, remember donut raids?”

“I do. I remember them very well”, Stephen said, a genuine grin cracking over his face, smile lines creased endearingly. Tony ducked his head again before unzipping yet another pocket and searching through it.

“Do you think they ever suspected us?”

“Peter, maybe”, Stephen replied teasingly. “Not Iron Man and the Sorcerer Supreme, though. They’re far too dignified to be involved in any shenanigans.” Tony snorted again and let it turn into a laugh.

“I never thought I’d hear you say ‘shenanigans’.”

“I didn’t. I was speaking for the cafeteria ladies.” The sorcerer winked and Tony was relieved to finally find his tablet, feelings his cheeks heat up in a rush as he turned to the receptionist. He could feel Stephen’s gaze burning a hole in his right shoulder, but kept facing forward as the receptionist checked him in. She explained that, as he had gotten there nearly twelve hours earlier than originally scheduled, there happened to be a recent surgery cancellation in the specialized cybernetics operation theatre, so his surgery had been rescheduled to an hour and a half from now. She directed him to a room where Doctor Baradii would give him a full body checkup and Tony would undergo some basic monitoring and testing before he was scheduled to be in the operating theatre. 

They found the room after getting lost twice, Stephen trailing Tony into the third floor examining room silently, still carrying his duffel bag over his shoulder. Tony looked around the room nervously, ignoring the impending feeling of bile rising in the back of his throat, the buzzing anxiety in his chest intensified anytime he let down the wall between their halves of the life force. He could feel that Stephen was worried for him, deeply worried, though it didn’t show in the sorcerer’s calm expression as they sat in the spacious examining room. The room’s fourth wall opposite the door was all glass, giving them a view out onto a field of ochre grass, Tony perched on the padded examining table while Stephen sat in a chair opposite.

“Are you alright, Tony?”

Stephen voice was even softer than usual, bated, waiting, like he was trying to avoid spooking a wild animal. It sounded too small in the large room which echoed slightly for lack of much in it besides what they were sitting on.

“Just worried about Morgan. Pepper texted me, and she’s getting an MRI right now.” Tony swallowed roughly, thinking of how small Morgan must look in one of those huge white machines. “Even then, it’s hard to tell with the imaging, but they're 99% sure it’s her appendix.” Tony looked up to meet patient green eyes, simultaneously realizing that he was spouting information that Stephen probably knew by heart, but the sorcerer didn’t show anything but sympathy. “Kids under five are supposed to be at the greatest risk of a rupture, so she’s probably going to have surgery to be on the safe side.”

“I know it’s worrying, but she has some of the best doctors and technology in the world to do so. And at least you get to be in the same building as her”, Stephen offered gently, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

“Yeah, no, I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, Doc. She’s better here than with those quacks at the Upstate University hospital, anyway.” A grin tugged at the edge of Stephen’s mouth in response, but the look he gave Tony told him he was seeing right through him.

“What about your surgery?” Tony’s muscles visibly tightened.

“What about it?”

“Are you worried?”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, I’m just getting a big hunk of metal attached to my brain and body. No big deal.” His voice was nonchalant, but tight as he looked everywhere but Stephen’s face.

They both knew that the chances of complications with this type of surgery were high. Attaching a cybernetic prosthetic meant connecting synthetic wires to hundreds of nerve endings, hopefully without damaging any of them. Besides this was the complexity of the whole surgery within itself, the challenge of connecting muscles and tendons in just the right way to pieces of metal and silicon. The likelihood of nerve damage was also very high, and damage past a certain point would render his cybernetic arm inoperable, meaning the surgery would have been for naught and Tony would be left with one arm for the rest of his life. If the surgery was successful, well, Tony had been warned countless times how much pain he would be in. Unimaginable pain for months on end. And there were only so many pain killers one could take. 

“You’re allowed to be scared”, Stephen said suddenly. Tony turned, eyes dark with an affronted fire, mouth agape with angry words, but they died on his tongue.

“Okay. What are you getting at, wizard?” Stephen leaned forward in his chair a little.

“I’m just saying you don’t have to put on the brave front all the time. We know you’re tough, okay, look at what you’ve survived. We know you’re Iron Man, so you don’t need to prove it constantly.” Tony was practically spitting with a raging defence that wouldn't come. “Just be the patient, let yourself be scared, and let these people take care of you, okay? You should trust them a little, considering how your recovery has gone so far.”

The sound of a fly buzzing against the window was deafening as Tony stared at the toe of his shoe, anger bubbling up in his chest while he wanted to sob, to be held, to be taken care of like Stephen had just said. 

“Oh, sure, if you want to be all logical about it”, he snarked instead. “That’s fine.” He went to cross his arms, then remembered he only had one, so ended up gripping his own side as a weak cover up. If Stephen noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Just let me be quietly dramatic about it, okay, Strange?”

“I’m just saying; the combination of your anxiety attack and my own is about to send me into cardiac arrest”, Stephen said, saying far more than he probably meant to. “I’d greatly appreciate it if you would try and calm down just a little.”

Silence filled the room again, but this time it was tense, vibrating, Tony’s question tangible in the air even before he spoke it.

“You can really feel that? Like you could feel when I woke up this morning?” Tony’s tone conveyed his awe, face open, heart bared, but Stephen seemed to miss all of it as he stared at the space between his feet.

“Yes, I can. And I apologized for that”, he muttered.

“And I said it was cool. No worries, Doc.” Stephen met his eyes again.

“Pepper didn’t seem to think it was cool.”

“Well, to be fair, she was a little weirded out.”

“I think most things I do weird her out.”

“You are pretty weird.” Tony smiled gently and was glad Stephen caught it this time, heart jumping as the sorcerer returned it. “It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”, he pressed.

“The connection between our halves of the life force? Yes, it’s getting stronger.” Tony liked that Stephen had said ‘the’ life force as opposed to ‘my’, and he wasn’t sure why.

“And I’m guessing that’s to do with these…long periods of close proximity we’ve been having?” Tony was rewarded again with a genuine grin, albeit small and reserved.

“Nothing gets past you, Iron Man.”

Tony’s responding retort was silenced as Doctor Baradii entered the room with a polite knock, explaining that he would be conducting Tony’s physical. Tony agreed Stephen should leave the room, but only after a moment of hesitation, assuring the sorcerer that he would text him to come back up once the examination was complete. This promise quelled the anxiety that Tony could feel rising drastically in the other man’s chest, giving each other reassuring smiles as Stephen left the room. The sorcerer was left to wander the waiting areas, ending up in the familiar cafeteria and ordering a tea, refusing to get any food, especially not a donut because it felt wrong on his own. He sat at a window booth in the corner, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of his own breathing, hands wrapped around his tea as they shook. It took several minutes before he realized he had let himself focus on Tony’s breathing as well, the slight divide between their physical functions and emotions degrading as he let his mind slip. Quickly, he pulled the divide back, as if drawing a curtain closed over a window. He told himself he was impeding on Tony’s privacy, but it just felt like looking at another side of himself, like studying his own reflection in the mirror while it looked back at him. That’s what Tony’s soul felt like, when he let himself focus on it. Like a version of himself, though Stephen revered it much more than his own.

His phone buzzed on the table beside his arm and Stephen jumped.

_Done. Taking blood now. Can you come back, please?_

It was the wording, the question, the almost desperate use of the word ‘please’ that had Stephen jolting up from the booth and stalking far too quickly across the cafeteria, surprised he had remembered to grab his tea. He let the divide down and it felt like running into a concrete wall. Anxiety and fear swarmed his chest, bombarding his heart and lungs so he was gasping by the time he made it to the third floor, unable to form a gateway and not having the patience for the unreliability of elevators.

Tony startled as Stephen rushed into the room, soul crackling like electricity with withheld anxiety.

“Are you okay?”, Stephen asked breathlessly, trying to hide how out of breath he was, though his chest was still being crushed by the dual panic attack gripping his heart. 

Tony could only shake his head as he sat in the chair Stephen had been in earlier, clamping a cotton ball in the crook of his elbow, obviously abandoned by the nurse after she drew a blood sample. He was gasping as if he had been running up the flights of stairs alongside Stephen, eyes hazy and tear-filled as he tried to focus on something. Stephen instantly recognized the panic attack they were both feeling, immediately dropping to his knees in front of Tony, head swimming as he did so.

“It’s okay, just focus on me. Tony, look, try to breathe”, he tried, but Tony was too far off to even hear him, trapped in the spinning cage of his own head. Stephen tentatively drew his hands up to grip each of Tony’s shoulders, the other man shuddering and gasping as he fought for oxygen and calm. 

“Tony. Tony, breathe”, he reminded him again, demonstrating by inhaling deeply himself, holding the breath for a few seconds before letting it go. Forgetting the cotton ball, Tony reached out with his one arm to grip Stephen’s shoulder in turn, trying to ground himself. Stephen took over pressing on the cotton ball as blood started to trickle down Tony’s arm, still holding his shoulder with his other hand, breathing empathically so Tony could follow suite.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. Can you say that for me?” Deep, brown eyes met Stephen’s in a fit of desperation at the imposing simplicity of this task. 

“I-I’m saf-fe”, he managed, his stutter finding its way back. 

“Good”, Stephen soothed. “Keep breathing. What’s your name?” 

“Tony S-Stark.”

“Alright. And where are you?” Stephen immediately regretted this question as Tony’s eyes flicked about the room in panic, his brain not recognizing this place. “That’s okay. Just breathe. In and out. Everyone’s alive, right?”

“Everyone’s alive”, Tony confirmed in a breathless mumble. 

“Good”, Stephen repeated, seeing how the praise kept tearing down the panic brick by brick. 

It took about fifteen minutes of reminding him to breathe, reminding him that he was alive and well, before Stephen felt it was safe to take his hand off Tony’s shoulder, though he didn’t stand up. 

“You alright now?”, Stephen asked gently. Tony looked thoroughly embarrassed, though Stephen had seen him in far worse states than this.

“Yeah”, he muttered. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. There’s no need to apologize.” The look Tony gave him suggested that there was reason to apologize, but Stephen wasn’t able to pry any further as the door was opened and a nurse came, armed with a translucent tablet and a folded hospital gown.

“Hi, Mr. Stark, I’m going to need you to change into this and fill out some last minute forms. These are just detailing any possible allergies since we found some discrepancies throughout your medical history.” Tony took both with a nervous grin.

“Thanks, I’ll take care of that. And Tony is fine.” 

“Of course. Once you’re done with the forms, drop the tablet off at the desk just down the hall to the left and I’ll bring a gurney back in to get you prepped.” She exited the room as quickly as she had come and Tony was left a little dazed, staring at both the tablet and the dressing gown as if they were foreign objects. 

“Here”, Stephen offered, stepping forward. “You get changed and tell me how to fill out these forms.”

“Okay”, Tony responded almost robotically, and Stephen could feel the other man’s heartbeat spiking as the reality and nearness of his surgery became apparent. Stephen spun the chair around with his back to the window in order to give Tony some privacy, and sat in it, scrolling through the forms on the tablet quickly.

“Yeah, like she said, there’s just some holes concerning your allergies”, Stephen relayed as he heard Tony sneakers being toed off.

“Okay, well, I’ve got a latex allergy…”, Tony started.

“What?” Stephen turned around halfway in his shock, accidentally catching a glimpse of Tony’s bare back, before remembering why he had been facing the other way in the first place, and turned back around. “You do realize most surgical gloves are latex, right?” Tony snorted in response.

“I’m just yanking your chain, Doc. I’m not an idiot.” Stephen heard his belt buckle clink and then tried very hard not to think about it. A loud knock on the door made them both jump, Tony leaping to grab the hospital gown still on the examination table.

“Don’t come in!”, Tony called. “People are getting naked in here!”

“No!”, Stephen quickly corrected, heart hammering in horrified embarrassment. “Just one person! Just him!”

“It’s Happy”, came a voice from the other side of the door and Tony walked past Stephen, now fully clad in the hospital gown, to throw the door open.

“Hey, Hap. Good timing”, Tony smirked, giving Stephen a teasing look that made the sorcerer drop his eyes back to the forms on his lap. “Just doing some forms and shit.”

“Here, I’ll finish those”, Happy offered, taking the tablet from Stephen with a polite grin. “Thanks. They should have sent these through to make sure they were done ages ago. They shouldn’t be bothering you with paperwork right before surgery. What are they thinking?” He looked extremely distraught as he completed the form almost automatically, while Tony put a hand on his arm to soothe him.

“Don’t worry about it. They’re just trying to do their job properly.” Happy met Tony’s eyes with a frown.

“Well, I am worried about it, okay?” Happy looked to Stephen. “Thanks for staying with him and the whole portal thing. It was a lot less stressful for everyone.” Ignoring Tony’s comment of ‘You mean stressful for you’, Stephen inclined his head.

“I’m happy to be around and help out”, he said, arms crossed, deciding to let the ‘portal’ comment slide. “Even if this one’s a handful.”

“I love being talked about like I’m not even here, and also like I’m a three year old”, Tony snapped in mock offence, and would have crossed his arms with a pout if he could.

Another knock on the door sounded and Stephen felt his heart pounding with it, watching the nurse wheel in a gurney, the world around him going mute. The only thing he could hear was his pulse thrumming in his ears as he watched Tony be loaded up like an animal going off to slaughter, last minute heart and lung checks as a cotton sheet was offered to go over his legs. Happy was confronting one of the nurses about the mistakes in the paperwork while the other took Tony’s blood pressure.

“If you have any jewelry, it’s advisable to take it off”, the nurse told Tony as she unwrapped the cuff from around his arm. Tony lifted his arm, the face of his watch glinting in the light, pausing as he realized he couldn’t take it off on his own.

“Here.” Stephen stepped forward, hands barely trembling as he unbuckled the simple leather band. He could feel Tony watching him, big brown eyes dancing over his face, watching for the emotions he knew were bubbling underneath. Stephen took the watch, about to say that he’d hand it over to Happy or Pepper for safe-keeping, but Tony beat him to speaking. 

“Hold on to that for me?”, he asked, voice husky as it cracked a little, though his eyes remained dry as he met Stephen’s. They kept eye contact for a moment longer, eyes flicking over each other, and Stephen felt himself reaching for Tony’s wrist where the watch had been, long scarred fingers gently holding on to him. Tony swallowed audibly, grabbing the sorcerer’s forearm and squeezing, probably harder than he meant to as he shook with anxiety and dread.

“Of course”, Stephen managed to croak out, forcing a grin which Tony returned dryly, not reaching his eyes for fear had taken over there. “I’ll give it back to you once you get out”, he assured, releasing their grip on each other when the nurse came back over, fussing over Tony a little more, though the engineer didn’t hear much of what she said as he only had eyes for the tall man standing to his left. 

The next ten minutes were a daze, Tony being wheeled towards the operating room, passing a desk where one last piece of electronic paperwork had to be signed. Happy nearly spat with annoyance as he grabbed the proffered tablet and signed it for Tony, saving him from the embarrassment of writing with his non dominant hand, and the nurses were too intimidated to object. Then Pepper came, practically jogging down the hall once Happy had texted her, holding on to Tony and telling him that Morgan was in surgery, but it was going very well, so he didn’t need to worry, but of course tears sprang to Tony’s good eye as he thought of his little girl under the knife. Pepper tried to reassure him, kissing his face gently, telling him he was going to be okay, that Morgan was going to be okay, until he calmed down a little. Or at least until the nurses came back to wheel him away. 

Tony held his hand out to Happy, who took it gently, engulfed in both of his large hands as Tony told him something that Stephen couldn’t hear. The sorcerer hung back with Tony’s watch, still warm from his body heat, clutched in his palm. Tony finished what ever he had to tell Happy, and Pepper gave him one last kiss before the nurses and a transport assistant began to wheel him down the hall to a set of doors. He lifted his hand with a peace sign, an attempt to make his worried loved ones smile. It worked on Happy and Pepper, or maybe they faked it for Tony’s sake, but Stephen could only make eye contact with him until he disappeared out of view behind the doors. 

Silence fell between the three, the intercom of the hospital buzzing, nurses racing about while armed with tablets and carts. Stephen stood away from them, wanting to give them space while Pepper let herself cry against Happy’s shoulder, composing herself somewhat before marching back to the waiting room to be ready for Morgan. 

“This is all a bit messed up”, Happy said suddenly in the not-silence of the hall. His voice sounded far too small. “Having them both in surgery at the same time.” Stephen could only nod in response, standing limp but for Tony’s watch still held tightly in his now heavily trembling hand. Happy stepped away to hassle the receptionist about uncompleted paperwork for a bit, blowing off some anxious steam. Stephen remained rooted to the spot, shoes glued to the tile as he stared at the doors Tony had disappeared behind, wondering if there was any point in moving until he came back through them. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Happy was suddenly standing beside him again and Stephen would have jumped if he didn’t feel so numb. He regarded the other man in confusion.

“Pardon?”

“Tony told me to ask you to stay, if you don’t have anywhere else to be”, Happy explained. “It’s good ‘cause I know he’d be worried if I were out here alone…worrying about him.”

“Well, Pepper’s here too”, Stephen offered numbly, hoping to downplay what Happy was saying.

“I know”, he muttered in return, joining Stephen in staring after the doors Tony had been wheeled through. “I’m going to go find her. Do you want to come?” Stephen nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from the doors, feeling himself becoming grounded back in his own body slightly. 

“Yes, but I think I’m going to grab a drink from the cafeteria first. Can I get you anything? Pepper likes tea, right?” Happy smiled, a small, but genuine smile, the first Stephen had seen directed at him.

“Yeah, peppermint with honey, if they got it. And just black coffee for me would be great.”

Stephen set off for the cafeteria with a nod as Happy headed for the waiting room. He had jammed his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket, a habit for when he felt insecure or anxious. He could feel Tony’s heart still pounding steadily with fear in his own chest and it brought tears to his eyes, alarming the young cashier a little as she handed him his change. The tray of three hot drinks was perilous to carry with his shaking hands as they were, so he didn’t chance the stairs on his way back up, leaning against the wall of the elevator as his head swam. He spotted Happy easily enough in the waiting room, thanked by him and a tearful Pepper as he handed them their drinks. Stephen was glad that they were focused on their own conversation, Happy trying to comfort Pepper a little. His vision became bleary and the tremulous pounding in his chest slowed as Tony went under anesthesia, the sorcerer struggling to hold his paper cup of tea as everything in his body became slack against his will. 

It was going to be a long nine hours. 


	8. Six People Are My Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is given the chance to appreciate the important relationships in his life as he recovers from his prosthetic surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it’s been a hot minute since an update. Sorry about that lmao This chapter has been 90% done for a while now, I just got stuck on the ending and school got really busy. Also, I know it’s a lot shorter than the chapters have been lately, but this felt like the right place to end it.
> 
> Also. I. LOVE. HAPPY. AND. RHODEY. so god damn much
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

A dry mouth and the now familiar fog of morphine greeted Tony as he blinked awake under fluorescent lighting. His body was warm and numb in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, though it almost felt as if he were suspended and not truly in his body. He tried to swallow, but the lack of saliva in his own mouth made him cough, reaching for the cup of water on the right nightstand when he remembered. 

Almost fearfully, Tony looked down at the hunk of silver metal resting against his right side. Taking a shuddering breath, he analyzed the mechanical joints and muscles, currently strapped around his abdomen with a sling so that he would be less inclined to lift or move it immediately. Despite this, he lifted the elbow of the prosthetic up with his other hand, testing the weigh of it. He’d been expecting pain at the movement, but the clouded layers of pain killers were enough to dilute it. The arm was weighted well, only slightly heavier than his flesh arm so that he might also gain muscle and still be evenly balanced, though he felt rather crushed by the unfamiliar weight of it on top of his ribcage. 

His mind finally gaining proper traction on his consciousness, Tony grabbed his phone and texted Pepper. He would rather talk to her directly than have to call a nurse and ask to see her.

_Why don’t you swing by my place? Pudding and chill? ;)_

Then a bleary selfie and message to Rhodey.

_I lived, bitch._

The morphine did a good job of obscuring Tony’s memory, as he couldn’t remember if Rhodey had been at the hospital before he went into surgery. Flicking back through his messages to him, Tony nodded to himself. That’s what he had thought. Dumb ass council meeting. His phone blinged and he barely registered it, cursing the drag of the pain killers on his mind. Pepper had replied.

_Morgan and I will be right there. <3_

Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, tension leaving his shoulders. Morgan was okay. Stats told him appendix removal was routine and fairly safe, but he wouldn’t believe them until his daughter was back in his arms. Tony was disappointed when a nurse came into the room, only for his heart to swell when he realized she was opening the door for Pepper, rolling Morgan into the room in a wheelchair. His heart choked at seeing his little girl almost comically dwarfed in the wheelchair, bundled up in one of her blankets that they had brought from home, eyes lighting up as she caught sight of her dad.

“Daddy”, she greeted a little more quietly than usual, obviously still under the influence of her own pint-sized dose of morphine. She lifted her arms to get up on to the bed with him, Pepper lifting her up and tucking her in on his good side so as not to jostle his new arm. Morgan immediately snuggled against his chest, cradled in the crook of his arm as her eyes drifted shut.

“Hey, how’s my sleepy girl?”, Tony rasped, not expecting a response as he kissed the top of her head multiple times, looking up at Pepper who was watching them with a smile. “Hey, Pep.” She took his hand that was looped around Morgan’s back, pulling a chair closer to the bedside as she sat. 

“How are you feeling?”, she asked quietly as Morgan’s breathing had already evened out into a light sleep.

“No, her first. Did everything go okay?” Pepper gave him a reassuring smile, rubbing his hand with her thumb in little circles.

“Yes, everything went perfectly well. Her appendix hadn’t ruptured yet, but was likely going to, so we made a good decision. The doctors here are amazing. The surgeon even came to visit Morgan once she woke up.” Tony nodded, but couldn’t hide his guilt completely.

“I should have been there when she woke up.” He knew it was ridiculous as he said it, and the look Pepper gave him agreed as she leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple.

“Oh, Tony…”, she chided gently, eyes patient as she pulled back, meeting his lips once he pursed them with a teasing grin. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek and Tony noticed with a shuddering heart that it was left cheek, the unscarred one. He brushed past it quickly though, not letting her see the momentary hurt on his face when she pulled back, giving him another smile. His right cheek was completed healed by now, it didn’t hurt at all to touch, his mind reasoned, but the morphine didn’t let him focus on it for long. Another wave of artificial sleep tried to pull him under and the circular motion of Pepper’s thumb on his hand let him succumb to it. 

*****

It was hours later when Tony woke up again. There wasn’t a clock on the wall, he could just feel it. He noticed Morgan’s weight beside him was gone even before he opened his eyes, and his gut reaction was to panic, looking about the room frantically only to meet Pepper’s eyes. Morgan was settled on her lap as Pepper sat in the same chair not a few feet from the bed, giving Tony an almost sympathetic look.

“It’s okay, she’s right here”, she soothed. Morgan was still asleep, or maybe asleep again, Tony reasoned. She was straddling her mom’s lap, little legs dangling on either side as she slept on Pepper’s chest, cheek smushed and hair in rakish disarray. Tony’s brain was almost dragged back into sleep again once his panic had subsided, though one thought pushed through strongly.

“Where’s my Rhodey?”, he asked, surprised by the slur of his own voice. 

“He just went down to the cafeteria to get us something to eat, actually. Happy was in here earlier too, but not having anything to do was making him anxious, I think. He’s probably stalking the halls”, Pepper smiled. 

“Can you get Happy, please?” Tony was annoyed by the pull of sleep he felt. He wanted to see his friends. He needed to know they were okay, but the heavy warmth of sleep was tempting.

“He should have his phone on him. I’ll text him.” As if on cue, Happy came storming into the room as quietly as possible, a bundle of nerves carrying two cafeteria trays, closely followed by Rhodey who was somehow managing three.

“Hap”, Tony rasped with a grin and the larger man froze, setting the trays down on a table as he made his way over to the side of the bed opposite Pepper and Morgan. It was his blind side, so Tony had to turn his head to see him, but seeing the other man’s smile was more than worth it.

“Hey, boss”, Happy muttered, out of habit more than anything. 

“You terrorizing the nurses?”, he teased, reaching his good hand out and Happy took it automatically, steady and calm.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“You know I do.” The contact and a shared grin was enough for Happy as he turned to pull up another chair, Rhodey coming to take his place. He leaned down as Tony offered his good forearm, holding on to each other in some form of one-armed hug.

“Hey, Tones, you’re not allowed to lose any more limbs, okay? That’s a new rule around here, no exceptions.” 

“No promises, platypus”, Tony muttered, cupping a hand to the back of his friend’s head, planting a quick forehead kiss before they parted.

“You hungry?”, Happy offered. “We got a bunch of different things from the cafeteria.”

“We”, Rhodey snorted. “I paid for it and carried most of it, but, yeah, ‘we’”. Happy gave an affronted look as he frowned.

“I didn’t even know you were getting food, okay? I would have paid for it. Do you want me to pay you back?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it”, the other man shook his head, as he wheeled a bed tray over for Tony before grabbing another for Pepper and Morgan. “Besides, you would have known we were getting food if you hadn’t been sulking in the halls.”

“I wasn’t sulking”, Happy shot back, glancing Tony a look who was grinning groggily as he looked between them. His heart overflowed with love for these two men, friendly bickering or not. “We got burgers, Tony. You up to eating yet?” And as much Tony would have loved to eat, his stomach felt empty, but in a sick, dormant way, like it was better if it stayed like that.

“Don’t know if I can just yet. Thanks anyway, both of you”, he said pointedly, just to get a bit of a rise out of either of them. Both men just grinned, seeing right through him. Rhodey brought a tray over for Pepper and Morgan, the little girl waking up almost immediately from the noise andthe smell of food, before he set himself in the chair beside them. Tony let himself drop into sleep again, but willingly this time, as his family was content and surrounding him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this safe. 

*****

It was dark when Tony woke up again. He could see stars glinting outside the window, and he was overcome with peace like he hadn’t in years, the steady beep of his heart rate monitor like a soothing metronome.. He felt warm and fuzzy due to the high dose of morphine he was on, completely painless. It felt foreign, not to be favouring a part of his body because it wasn’t working properly or had been irreparably damaged. His room was in semi-darkness, the door open to the dim light in the hall where a tall figure was outlined in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. Tony realized where the warm, comfortable feeling in his chest was coming from.

“Doc?” 

“Hey.” The sorcerer stepped forward quietly with a little jump at having been found out. He pulled up the chair Pepper had been in earlier, making Tony wonder where she was, though he supposed she must have been asleep at this late hour. 

“Thought you would have gone home by now.”

“I did…for a bit.” Tony couldn’t see his face very well, but he could sense the sorcerer wasn’t looking at him. “I wanted to come back, though. Wanted to see for myself that you pulled through.” Tony felt like he must be joking, but the sorcerer’s tone was clipped and uncomfortable. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily”, Tony replied lightly and silence fell over the room.

“How’s the arm?” Tony could practically see the soft, concerned look Stephen was giving him. His tone was very telling. 

“Can’t really feel it yet. I’m absolutely drowning in morphine, Doc”, he said, looking down at the arm in the dark. “Looks to be in good working order, though. The doc was in earlier, said the surgery went over well despite everything. But I’ll have to give it a paint job at some point. Silver’s not really my scene.” Stephen laughed lightly and he was close enough that Tony felt the small puff of air on his flesh arm. 

“Red and gold, then?”

“Hotrod”, Tony specified, chancing a small laugh and was relieved when his chest didn’t hurt. “You know it.”

“Speaking of morphine, turns out it affected me as well when you went under.” Stephen huffed a laugh and Tony could feel a grin cracking over his own face. “I couldn’t move a whole lot.”

“Are you serious?”, Tony asked, a giggle slipping past his guise. 

“Yes. Happy had to help me to the washroom at one point, so that was one of the most mortifying things to ever happen to me”, the sorcerer said in amused disbelief. He was almost cut off as Tony burst into laughter, trying to contain it while not moving his arm too much, wary despite the protective shield of morphine.

“Well, I’m glad you find that so amusing, douchebag”, Stephen rumbled affectionately, though he tried to sound annoyed. “If I ever have another surgery, I hope you enjoy your allotted time as human spaghetti.” This image didn’t help Tony control his laughter, wiping tears from his cheek with the heel of his palm. The sorcerer’s poker face cracked into a huge grin, smile lines creased as his heart soared at hearing Tony’s laughter. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, Doc”, Tony said between dissolving giggles. “Did you know that was gonna happen?”

“Oh, yeah”, the sorcerer respond, voice already dripping with sarcasm. “I voluntarily chose to spend nine hours slumped in a hospital waiting room.” Tony felt a small pang of real guilt hit his chest. Stephen must have felt it, or realized his tone wasn’t as joking as he had meant, because Tony felt the sorcerer’s hand softly brush against his own, reassuring him. “I’m kidding, Tony, I could have called Wong at any time. I wanted to be here.” 

“Thanks”, Tony muttered, and he was glad for the dark as he patted Stephen’s hand gently in return. For the first time, he felt rather than saw the raw scars underneath his own calloused fingertips, and was relived when Stephen didn’t balk at the contact, only pulling back when Tony did. Stephen coughed as he sat back in his chair.

“I, uh, gave Peter a ring since Pepper’s been worried about Morgan, she didn’t have a chance to.” Tony’s excitement and concern was tangible as he sat up a bit.

“Yeah, how’s the kid doing? I think one of the nurses confiscated my phone under orders from Happy. He wants to make sure I rest”, he snorted.

“Yeah, good, he’s good. He really wants to see you, though. I was going to open a gateway for him to come by if you’re up to it.”

“Of course, yeah. I’m gonna be in here for at least another week, so whenever he’s able to.

“He said Saturday would work.” Stephen huffed sympathetically. “Poor kid’s dealing with finals. He’s absolutely wound up with stress, hasn’t been sleeping, too anxious to eat. I think seeing you would do him a lot of good.” Once again, Tony thanked the darkness as an uncomfortable warmth rushed his cheeks.

“I dunno. I wish I could do better by him, sometimes, you know? Wish I weren’t such a bloody mess all the time. The kids deserves someone who’s stable, not someone who’s messed up by a ten year long version of what he’s dealing with.” There was a beat of silence before Stephen gave a sympathetic sigh. 

“Tony, don’t be silly, you’re everything to him. You help each other, you know that.”

“What? He told you that?”

“I’ve seen it.

Tony nodded in resignation, though he realized Stephen probably couldn’t see it. 

“Right.”

They sat and talked about nothing in particular for a while longer, but it wasn’t much more than half an hour later before Tony felt his eyelids dropping shut on him again, pulled closed as if there were lead weights attached to them. He didn’t feel like he needed to stay awake for Stephen’s sake, completely at ease to fall asleep in the sorcerer’s presence. He was safe. He felt safe with him. 

*****

Two more days passed and Tony slept more than he had in decades. When he wasn’t sleeping, he was cuddling and resting with Morgan who was still recovering from her own surgery. They would read or play gently on Tony’s bed, both still sore and full of stitches, as Pepper had brought some of Morgan’s toys from home. Tony noticed how Pepper was still avoiding his right side, his new arm, even though she tried very hard to hide it, he picked up on her almost fear-like tactic of ignoring his cybernetic limb. He tried to ignore her reaction in turn; she’d gone through a lot in the past couple of days, hell, the past seven months, so he made a conscious effort to give her a break. 

Saturday morning saw Pepper keeping Morgan occupied in the hospital’s play area while Tony napped after breakfast. As much as he and sleep had been mortal enemies in the past, it was liberating just to be able to rest, slipping into sleep easily when ever he felt tired. It had never been that simple. He’d always worked himself to exhaustion before he could go to bed without being plagued by his own thoughts, so the change was welcome now that he needed the rest to heal. 

Tony met the mid morning sun without being disorientated upon waking for the first time since he’d come to the hospital. A bleary figure sat at his bedside, turning into Peter once he blinked the sleep from his eyes. The boy looked too small in an oversized blue hoodie, hair wild with curls and Tony’s heart melted.

“Hey, Underoos.” Peter sat up straighter at the sound of Tony’s voice, brown eyes big with concern as he pulled his chair closer.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Tony scoffed, trying to cough the rasp out of his voice more than anything.

“Oh, come on, Pete. I keep telling you, we’re so far past formalities it’s scary.” The teen looked guilty at the accusation as he ducked his head, playing with the cuff of his sleeve.

“Sorry. I’m just used to it.” Tony chuckled, reaching his good hand out for Peter to take, overcome with protective love at feeling his boy’s solid grip. Solid, not dust. 

“Hey, no worries, kid. I’d just rather you call me Tony, but all in good time.” 

“Okay.” Peter smiled as Tony patted the bed beside him, urging the teen to sit beside him as they talked. Tony filled him in on his prosthetic surgery, including some of the particulars of his healing process because Peter understood most of it and was interested. In turn, Peter caught Tony up on how school was going, recounting what Stephen had relayed two nights ago. High school sucked. Exams were here. He was stressed. But the almost haunted, sleepless look hanging under Peter’s eyes disappeared almost completely and was replaced with his bright grin as he and Tony spent the morning talking. 

*****

It was nearly noon and Peter had gone to the cafeteria to get them some pudding cups, snatching one back from Tony as he tried to tear the foil off with his teeth.

“You’re ridiculous”, Peter teased, handing the cup back to Tony with a grin.

“Hey, have a little respect for your elders, young man”, Tony teased back. He chased the pudding cup around the bed table for a few moments as Peter watched him with a smirk, before the teen grabbed it and held it still. Tony’s slight embarrassment was tangible as he spooned some pudding into his mouth, chocolate as requested. 

“You should be grateful”, Peter continued as a distraction. “I grabbed the last two chocolate ones and this old guy gave me the stink eye.” Tony snorted, watching as Peter trapped his own pudding cup between his knees. Silence fell over them and Tony noticed how the teen’s face had fallen as he stared at his spoon, still steadying Tony’s pudding cup for him.

“Well, he should know that vanilla’s an old person flavour”, Tony tried, but only the edge of Peter’s mouth twitched in the attempt of a smile. Chest falling, Tony softened his tone. “What’s eating at you, Pete? You can tell me.” He was alarmed when the teen lifted his face to meet him and there were tears in his eyes.

“It’s just…this is my senior year, you know and…I’ve always been really excited to get out and go to university somewhere but…the way things are now after everything…I don’t want it to change.” His voice broke on the last word, turning to look out the window abashedly. 

“Hey”, Tony soothed, dropping his spoon to reach out for Peter’s arm, tugging on his sleeve gently so he would turn and look at him again. “I know it’s all been a lot. No one can blame you for wanting a little stability. But you don’t want to be in high school forever, right? Stuff’s gotta change, that’s what life does, but you’ll be okay.” Teary doe eyes met Tony’s face and his heart fell a little.

“I guess. It’s just scary and I-I…really like how things are now, you know…with-.” He looked at Tony, lost for words, hoping he’d be able to fill in the blanks.

“I know. So do I. But…once you’re at MIT”, this prompted a grin from the teen, ”…or wherever you decide to go, you’ve got big things coming for you, Pete. Even outside all of this Avengers shit.” Peter sniffed as he glanced away, overwhelmed with the subtle praise.

“You think?” 

“I know”, Tony affirmed. “I’m already so proud of you, anything you do is going to blow the world away. But you know we’ll always love to have you back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Think of it as a second home if you want. Alright?” Tony hadn’t been expecting his response as Peter burst into tears, covering his mouth with one hand to stifle a sob.

“I-I thought you were just…kinda putting up with me because of how f-fucked up everything’s been”, he managed between sobs. Tony’s heart broke, to say the least. After everything, the kid still couldn’t believe there were people besides his aunt who genuinely cared about him, and Tony took it as a personal failure. 

“Wha-? Pete. No, no.” Tony gripped his arm again, wishing he had the strength to bodily pull him closer. “We love you, kid. You’re practically a Stark now, whether you like it or not.” Peter looked up as if Tony had just slapped him, affronted, scared, and disbelieving. 

“Really?” Tony’s heart was crushed. It felt worse than it had waking up in the cave in Afghanistan. 

“Of course.” He lifted his arm and, eyes glistening, Peter fell against him easily, burying his face in Tony’s chest as he laid down beside him lengthwise. Tony rubbed his back gently, wishing he could hold him with both arms. All in good time. The boy’s tears didn’t surprise him, but he was still a little alarmed as Peter choked on a sob and pressed against him harder. “It’s okay, it’s alright, Pete.” He found Peter’s forehead under his curls and kissed it softly. “You are so, so loved, kid. Please, never doubt that, okay? I know I’m not so good with saying that, but I can do better, okay?” Peter supplied his muffled agreement and Tony chuckled, pulling him closer against his chest.

“Okay, okay. I’ve got you, Underoos.” Tony had a thought and smiled quietly to himself, ducking his head near Peter’s ear as he whispered. “Hey. You know what I can’t wait to be able to do?” Peter turned his head slightly, eyes red as he moved his face from being pressed against Tony’s hospital gown.

“What?”, he croaked, sounding unbearably small.

“I can’t wait to be able to hug you and Morgan at the same time. That’s all I wanna do.” This prompted a wet, quiet giggle from the boy pressed against his chest.

“That would be nice”, Peter managed quietly, wrapping his arm around Tony’s middle without touching the sling. Tony was overwhelmed himself, barely keeping the tears from gathering as he nestled his cheek against the top of Peter’s head. He’d probably end up with a neck cramp, but he didn’t care. Right now, he just needed his boy, needed to feel that he was solid. 

“Yeah, that will be”, Tony agreed, barely above a whisper as the warm, heavy lull of sleep pulled at him. This is what had always been missing. A boy who needed Tony almost as much as Tony needed him, sweet and caring and so smart and brave and everything Tony knew he could be. Maybe his life was complete now, maybe it would finally be allowed to fall together, without Tony needing to fight tooth and claw to keep it. 

Yeah. That would be nice.


	9. Unravelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's new cybernetic arm isn't just causing physical pains in his life, and he finds himself gravitating towards Stephen as things with Pepper begin to unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR MILD BLOOD AND GORE
> 
> This chapter has me doubting all of my abilities as a writer and the time I spend doing it. I feel like a complete fraud lmao
> 
> And sorry for the delay in updating. I’ve been dealing with some health issues and then Christmas got busy. Hope this chapter was worth the wait and you all enjoy!
> 
> Angst! Get your fresh angst here!
> 
> We hurt the people we love the most, even if it’s not intentional.

_‘Mr. Stark!’_

_Hearing Peter’s scream of terror, Tony scanned around, but couldn't see any new danger._

_‘Pete, what’s wro-?” _

_Then he noticed how light the right side of the suit felt, how empty the right side of his body felt. He looked down, to see the result of the mad Titan swinging his blade only seconds ago. Tony thought the alien had missed, thought he had got away with a lucky break. But as the blood pounded in his ears, in the deathly silence of the battle field, he saw blood starting to drip from the empty socket where his arm used to be. The wound was almost cauterized by the magical heat of the alien blade._

_‘Mr. Stark?’_

_Peter’s devastated expression was the last thing he saw before he blacked out. _

_Waking up, Tony felt the metallic bite of winter air on his face and the stony concrete his head was resting on, looking down at the mangled half of his right arm still hanging from his body._

_No. Hadn’t Thanos chopped it clean off at the shoulder? Yes. But he wasn’t on Titan anymore. This atmosphere was distinctively Earthly, the air thin as it whistled through the Siberian bunker. _

_It came back to him in waves, the life ebbing out of him as the blood pulsed out of where his elbow used to be, staining the concrete a glistening, dark red. Fighting Steve and his…friend? Didn’t matter. They were giving Tony their worst while he held back, he held back a lot. He could have had Friday unleash hell on them, but he didn’t want to seriously hurt Steve, didn’t want to hurt Steve by hurting his friend. Bucky, wasn’t it? Weird name. _

_He got Bucky down, but then Steve got him on his back, knee pressing down on the reactor, as he raised the shield above his head, then brought it down hard. Maybe he hadn’t been aiming for his arm, it looked like he’d been aiming for the reactor, which would have made more sense. It would have debilitated Tony more. But now, bleeding out on the ice cold concrete, he wasn’t so sure._

_Steve had run as soon as he saw what he had done, grabbing Bucky, nearly hoisting him over his shoulder, half jogging away from Tony without a second glance. Tony felt his heart flickering out even before the darkness came, the stump of his arm too cold to even hurt. _

_Tony opened his eyes again, the snow replaced by dust, dust from rubble that got caught in his throat and choked him. He recognized a street in New York, though he couldn’t remember the name. This time, he couldn't even feel his right arm, couldn’t even register any sort of pain, but it was the lack of sensation that was disconcerting. The dust took a while to settle, but it did eventually, only to reveal that he’d brought a Leviathan down on his own arm. He must have been taunting it, he reasoned, getting shot by an alien arrow which caused him to collide with the mammoth beast, his hand getting caught under a chink in its own armour. He’d gone down hard with it, heart permanently lodging itself in his throat when the creature hit a building and flipped, coming down on its back and on top of him. His comms were down, his helmet so crushed, he couldn’t believe that his skull hadn’t been crushed along with it. He yelled for anyone; Steve, Thor, even the Hulk, but no one heard him in the din of battle. He wondered who was going to deal with the nuke if he was trapped here, going into shock with thousands of pounds of metal on his arm. His question was answered as there was a sickening explosion followed by darkness. _

Tony sat bolt upright in bed, floundering with the sheets wrapped around his good arm, making the mistake of trying to push himself up with his cybernetic arm. Already ripped through with pain, his arm audibly screeched in protest, the metallic whir of gears indicating that he had strained his prosthetic limb too far. He opened his eyes as wide as possible in the dark, trying to see where he was as he swiped absently at the right side of his face. There was something there, obstructing his vision, and he had to get it off. He couldn’t see. Then he remembered with a sinking heart: He was blind on that side. That eye was blind. He had to remind himself sometimes. 

** _My right eye is blind. My right arm is metal._ **

Said vibranium limb creaked angrily as he bent his elbow a little, sharp, bone-deep pain coursing through the arm and up his shoulder, radiating into his shoulder blade, and all through that side of his ribcage. Tony had to choke back a sob, gritting his teeth as he bore down, trying not to yell with pain. The lamp on the other side of the bed suddenly switched on and Tony imagined he must look like a wild animal caught in head lights, eyes crazed with pain, writhing in pain. Fuck, it wouldn’t stop. It was all consuming.

Bleary-eyed with her hair strewn in all directions, Pepper fixed him with a look as she sat up in bed.

“Are you okay?”, she asked automatically, voice thick with sleep and tinged with annoyance. Tony’s heart dropped a little: He knew she had an SI meeting in the morning, and he felt terrible for causing her countless sleepless nights. The past year had been tough for all of them, to say the least, but Pepper had been the composed backbone through it all, maintaining a put together front, but Tony knew she was barely stringing herself together underneath. She was a little frayed, she was more than a little tired, and she was at her wits end. Pepper didn’t blame him, she never blamed him, but Tony felt guilty nonetheless.

“Kinda, not really”, he said, surprised at how awake he sounded, voice quaking with fear. 

“Your arm?”, Pepper muttered though she knew the answer.

“Yeah. And I’ve already taken my limit for pain meds in the last 12 hours”, Tony grunted, sitting up and shoving a pillow behind his back. The full extent of sensation in his cybernetic arm hadn’t been enabled yet, at least until his stump healed fully, but there were days when every moment was agony regardless. 

“Try the heating pad”, she suggested, rolling back over. Tony had been tossing and turning since they went to bed around 10 pm, keeping them both up. Now that it was 4 am, Pepper was more than frustrated. “It’s in the kitchen. And could you go in the guest room? I want to see if I can get two hours of sleep.”

“Sorry, Pep”, Tony muttered, knowing the sharpness in her tone was just from exhaustion. “Uh, that bed hurts my back when there’s no one else in it, though. The mattress is too soft”, he reminded her. He recoiled in guilt as she groaned, throwing the duvet off her legs, snatching her pillow as she stood.

“I’ll go sleep in it, then”, she sighed, stumbling past the end of the bed and into the hall. 

Tony’s heart sunk as he heard the guest bedroom door close, and the kind of silence that only came in the middle of the night, quickly filling the house again. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting; he couldn’t expect Pepper to try to help when there wasn’t anything she could do to alleviate the pain in his arm. Sure, she could have grabbed the heating pad for him, but so could he, though the kitchen felt a million miles away at the moment. What he really wanted right now was a hug. Pieces of his nightmares were still flashing through his mind, reminding him of the pain in his arm, the events of his Snap manifesting in different scenarios from his past. The crushing emotion of the missile in New York, the fight in the Siberia bunker, and the battle on Titan: The worst moments of his life, cumulated and projected onto the crippling pain of his arm, easily prompted him to tear up. Tony breathed through a heavy sob, pressing his good arm over the centre of his chest, pushing down slightly. The weight was comforting, grounding him slightly while he fought the emotions welling up. He kept seeing Peter’s face moments before he collapsed in Tony’s arms, moments before he was dusted.

_‘I don’t want to go, sir. I don’t want to go.’_

Resisting the urge to scream into his pillow, Tony rolled over, hugging it instead. It was nights like these that he wished Peter was sleeping over, though he knew he would feel guilty if he subjected Peter to him being in this emotional state. The kid had seen him before, of course, a sobbing mess holding on to the boy like he might float away on the breeze again, but he’d rather prevent any future episodes. Another thing to feel guilty about. 

The twisting of his metal arm had been building as the emotional pain took over, distracting him for a bit before it became unbearable again. Sniffing and wiping tears from his cheeks, Tony struggled out of the sheets and duvet, shuffling out of the room. The small night light in the hall lit his way to the stairs, making sure to avoid the loud creak in the third step down as he gripped the rail tightly with his flesh hand. The specialized heating pad was on the kitchen table, as promised, and Tony grabbed it, standing for a moment in the quiet dark of the kitchen before the voices and flashes in his head came back. 

_‘Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good.’_

Fuck. No. Tony shook his head, sighing heavily as he made the trip back up the stairs, almost stepping on the creaky stair this time. He was shivering by the time he climbed back under the covers, only in a t-shirt and boxers as the winter cool of the night crept over his bare skin. Plugging the heating pad into the outlet by his nightstand, he wrapped it around his arm, and then curled into the fetal position around his arm, gravitating towards the heat like a freezing kitten. It took several minutes before Tony stopped shivering, allowing his mind to wander, though he chose where his thoughts were directed this time. He focused on his and Peter’s plans to meet up on Sunday, to spend some intensive relaxing time together once Peter had completed his homework for the weekend. He focused on what it felt like to hug Peter now that he was safe, now that they were both safe. That feeling was one of needing to protect, while simultaneously feeling protected by the boy’s presence. Fragments of nightmare material tried to slip in, but he quickly forced them out, bearing down and wrapping his mind completely within thoughts of holding Peter safe in his arms.

Heartbeat slowed, Tony was able to notice the ache in his chest. It was familiar now, even though the arc reactor had been out for almost eleven years. Now the grating tightness once provided by the reactor was replaced with a deep ache that consumed his ribcage, his entire chest, and gripped it until he couldn’t breath. Usually caused by anxiety, he now knew the longing pain in his chest was also caused by his shared life force with Stephen, the lack of close proximity making it feel as though there was something incomplete in his chest, screaming to be reunited with it’s other half. It was almost constant, only dulled when he and Stephen were together, or had just spent a significant amount of time together. 

Tony wasn’t sure if knowing the source of this added ache made it better or worse, all he knew right now was that it was almost unbearable. He and Stephen hadn’t seen each other in almost a week; not for any particular reason, they had both just been busy. They usually made an effort to see each other at least twice a week, a meet up for coffee, a chat at the Sanctum, or dinner at the cabin, but their combined schedules of physiotherapy, doctor’s appointments, research, and mystic threats to deal with hadn’t allowed such meetings lately. 

Tony always looked forward to those meetings so much, this past week had felt a little empty without them. He found himself missing the sorcerer’s subtle jabs and quick wit. Every conversation they had was like a thrilling mental exercise, except for when it wasn’t. When they both needed it, they would discuss things softly and slowly, especially concerning matters of emotional sensitivity, of which there were many. Tony tried not to turn their get-togethers into therapy sessions (that’s what his therapist was for), but it was hard to avoid sensitive topics when they spent as much time together as they did. Titan came up more than either of them would like to admit, but apparently it was something they both needed to talk about sometimes. And who better to discuss a traumatic event with than someone who had also been at said traumatic event? Turns out dying was almost as traumatic as watching your son figure and others die horrifically while you can do nothing but watch. 

These conversations were never very long, though, both because they were hard to linger on, and because they usually changed topics immediately after a comforting hand was laid on the other’s arm. Tony tended to linger on these moments long after they had parted ways, Tony heading back Upstate while Stephen returned to the Sanctum. He would think about how soft the sorcerer’s fingers were compared to his own work-scarred hands, how his hands were a little below average body temperature. Seemingly so cold at first, Stephen had revealed himself to be one of the most kind, soft-hearted people Tony knew, working his way up to physical displays of affection or comfort only recently. 

Tony blinked, huddling under the covers further and pressing his hand against his chest in an attempt to distill the pain. For him to think such thoughts about Stephen was more common lately, though he didn’t like to admit it to himself. What was there to admit? So he was thinking about a new person in his life, what was he stressing about? A new person who had become important very quickly, sure, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that, was there?

The pain in his chest spiked and Tony rolled over, trying to find a position which put enough pressure on it without causing more discomfort. It was like a hot metal spike was being driven through the centre of his chest, burning claws dragged down each rib and over his lungs. Tony took a gasping breath, causing a flash of pain so heated that his chest felt cold. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and thought about how the stabbing tightness melted away whenever Stephen was near. He’d be walking up the sidewalk to a cafe they were meeting up at and the constant dull ache would fade even before he saw the sorcerer. Tony wished he was here now, just to talk to, or for a comforting back rub, maybe even one of their rare hugs. He kept his eyes closed, picturing Stephen’s welcoming smile while pain rolled through his arm and chest hotly. The soothing lull of sleep took a while to come, darkness rolling over him and pulling him under as he kept his mind focused on memories of the gentle sorcerer. 

*****

Eleven o’clock the next morning found Tony blinking awake to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. The pain in his arm had been reduced to a dull ache, though a sharp twinge moved through his chest as soon as he sat up. Gasping, Tony tried to focus on the paisley pattern on the comforter as he breathed carefully through the rippling aftershocks of pain. The sunlight was too bright, prompting Tony to drag himself out of bed, dragging a thick cardigan around his shoulders carefully, managing to get his good arm through, but his mechanical limb was still too stiff to do the same. Pulling a pair of sweatpants on with one arm took a while, but he had had a lot of practice, stumbling into the hall after he toed on a pair of slippers. 

The rich aroma of coffee intermixed with the pain in his lungs as Tony clambered down the stairs, recognizing the sounds of Pepper rustling about the kitchen. She must have gotten back from her SI meeting already. 

“Morning, Pep”, Tony greeted as he came into the kitchen, receiving a small smile before she resumed digging through the fridge. 

“It certainly is.” Tony glided past the small jab at the late hour of the morning, though he thought he deserved a bit of a break considering the night he’d had last night. He poured coffee into the hand-painted mug from Morgan, sipping it black as he leaned against the counter.

“Morgan’s at that playdate, right? Katie’s house, isn’t it?”

“She was late getting there because my meeting ran late”, she replied pointedly, producing a loaf of bread and head of lettuce from the fridge. 

“Sorry, Pep. What did you want me to do, drive her?”, he said, gesturing to his cybernetic arm, not yet strong or coordinated enough to work a stick shift. 

“No, of course not”, she responded, almost sarcastically, rinsing the lettuce under the faucet. Tony blinked, taken aback by her tone. 

“Hey, I know I was a pain last night, but you don’t need to pick on stuff I can’t help.” Pepper sighed, shutting the water off and drying her hands on a towel. 

“I’m just tired, Tony, okay? I know neither of us can sleep well on the sofa, but I didn’t get a single wink of sleep last night until I went into the guest room.” Tony set his mug down, crossing his arms carefully.

“I do everything I can to help it, alright? Some nights are just like that.”

“It’s okay”, she said, resting a hand on his natural forearm. “Don’t listen to me this morning, I’m in a bad mood.”

“Makes two of us”, Tony muttered, moving to grab his mug, but she stopped him gently. Placing a hand on his good shoulder, Pepper pressed a kiss to his unscarred cheek. Though the gesture should have eliminated Tony’s annoyance, his uncertainty only grew as he noticed she was continuing to avoid the damaged side of his body. He smiled as she pulled back, more of a grimace to soothe his desire to mention it. 

“You planning anything besides physio today?”, Pepper asked, trying to not make it sound like the loaded question that it was. Tony swallowed the snarky retort he had ready to fire, reminding himself they were both tired and cranky right now.

“I was thinking of meeting up with Stephen, unless there was something specific you wanted me to do today?” Pepper ignored his question, arching an eyebrow instead.

“Meeting with Stephen? Why?” Tony’s brow furrowed slightly as he pulled his cardigan back over his metal shoulder where it was starting to slip off.

“Uh, my chest was hurting really bad last night. You know, thought I’d get my fix for the week over some coffee with him or something.”

“I thought you were starting to spend less time with him. Or at least trying to.”

“No, we’ve both just been busy this week.” Tony frowned. “Why would I be trying to spend less time with him?” Pepper huffed a little, crossing her arms as if the answer were obvious.

“I just think that you should be doing things with Morgan when you aren’t in pain. You know, spend time with your daughter instead of some strange man.” Tony’s brow furrowed again, feeling a surge of confused protectiveness in his chest.

“That ‘strange man’ is the reason I’m not in pain half the time, alright, Pep? You know that and I thought you were fine with it. What’s wrong with us hanging out?” Pepper frowned.

“Don’t turn this on me. I never said there was anything wrong with you two hanging out.” She sighed, hanging her head. “I just can’t help but think that you wouldn’t be in pain if not for him.” Tony’s heart was now thudding painfully as he tried to think clearly about what she had just said.

“If not for him. You mean if not for our life force?” Pepper nodded slightly, not making eye contact with him.

“It is the reason your chest hurts all the time, except for when you’re with him.”

“And you realize I’d be dead if not for him? If not for his life force that he shared with me?”, Tony asked, his tone slipping into patronizing as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Pepper scoffed, wiping the counter down angrily.

“It’s kind of hard to forget, Tony”, she said tightly. He could see by the tension in her shoulders and the way she was pursing her lips together that she was close to tears, but his own emotions were reeking havoc with his sensitivity. 

“You’d rather I was dead than be more dependent on someone else than I am on you?” Now her tears did come, in rivulets down her freckled cheeks and Tony felt a pang of guilt in his chest, but it wasn’t as strong as the overwhelming self-pity and grief. He felt painfully alone right then, standing alone with his wife in their kitchen. 

“Tony, don’t say that. Please”, Pepper breathed. “I just want things to be like they used to.” Tears must have been glistening in his eyes too, which she took as a cue to move closer, holding on to him with one arm wrapped around him. Tony noticed with a jolt in his chest that she was hugging his left side only, her cheek pressed against his unscarred one. He stepped back, removing himself from her as best he could without actually pushing her away. 

“Yeah, well, stuff changes, I guess.”

The bang of the screen door behind him had never been quite so loud. 

*****

Tony had been sitting on the front porch for nearly half an hour when he heard the garage door opening and, a few minutes later, Pepper’s Prius was making it’s way down the driveway, disappearing amongst the trees between the house and the road. He figured she must have gone out the back door, purposefully avoiding him. 

Tony pulled the porch swing blanket around his shoulders more tightly, shivering after sitting in the cold for so long. His and Pepper’s conversation ran through his mind over and over again until he had it memorized, pinpointing what he could have said differently, where he was being rude, and where he truly couldn't come up with anything better to say. 

_‘You wouldn’t be in pain if not for him.’_

That’s what Pepper had said about Stephen, and those words kept running through his mind like a broken record.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be in pain because I’d be dead”, Tony muttered quietly to himself. He thought about the text he had sent Stephen when he had first come out on the porch, asking him if he was free for coffee sometime today, hopefully sooner than later. The sorcerer wasn’t dependent on his phone at all, but kept it close on hand for both their sake’s. A painful episode resulting from separation could often be remedied by a quick visit, so they tried to remain on call for each other. 

**_Half an hour isn’t a long time_**, Tony told himself. **_He’s probably just busy with some magic stuff._**

Nevertheless, the chime of his phone twenty minutes after that set his heart to pounding. 

_I’m free right now. Be ready in 10, I’ll pick you up?_

Tony’s chest fluttered with warmth, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he typed out a response.

_Give me 15. Meet you on the front lawn. _

_Will do._

Tony was on his feet even before his phone chimed with Stephen’s response, back inside and hurrying up the stairs. It would take at least fifteen minutes for him to get proper clothes on with his one arm, and though Stephen was patient, he didn’t want to keep him waiting. Tony dug in his drawer for a pair of jeans, catching sight of Pepper’s engagement ring on top of his dresser. She often took it off for doing housework, but it hurt to see it lying there, glinting in the afternoon light. He felt guilty, extremely guilty for his argument with Pepper, but right now he was looking forward to the relief of seeing Stephen. He would fix the damage he had done when Pepper got home this evening, but now he couldn’t wait to feel the overwhelming rush of calm and lack of pain hit him when he saw the sorcerer. 

Tony pulled on a navy blue cable knit over a clean t shirt, the sweater already altered so the right sleeve was removed, as most clothing couldn’t accommodate his cybernetic arm, save for some of his larger hoodies. He strapped his watch and belt on with some difficulty, but both were possible after months of practice with one arm. His current physiotherapy program included getting him to use his metal arm more lately, but after last night’s episode, he wasn’t willing to risk the pain that trying to use it might cause. After washing his face quickly, Tony then addressed the challenge of brushing his teeth with his left hand, something that hadn’t gotten any easier even after months of doing so. The task gave him the chance to survey his own appearance in the mirror, the burn scars dark and rough in stark contrast to the rest of his face, blind eye staring back at him in the mirror like a milky, blue marble. His heart sunk a little, chest feeling empty as he considered that maybe Pepper had every right to avoid his damaged body. Maybe he had been too horrifically scarred for their relationship to go back to what it was. His chance to mull over the sobering thought was interrupted when his phone dinged, picking it up from the bed to check the text.

_I’m here._

Tony could barely help the smile that flitted over his mouth as he walked quickly down the stairs, feeling energized, especially compared to that morning. He forced all negative thoughts out of his head as he toed on a pair of loafers and pulled his wool coat over both arms, slightly oversized in order to fit his metal arm. Opening the front screen door, a rush of warmth hit Tony’s chest along with the late fall breeze, stirring his hair. Stephen was waiting on the front lawn, red coat bright like a drop of blood in the drear grey of the early winter afternoon, standing like a pillar of calm and peace. 

“Red’s your colour”, Tony grinned, formulating a casual conversation starter in his head, thrown off his game from his argument with Pepper. Not that he needed to keep up a front with Stephen.

“Yeah, well, when Levi refuses to stay at the Sanctum, I don’t have much choice in outerwear”, the sorcerer said as he returned his smile, raising a brow when his collar flicked his cheek saucily. “They get anxious about me catching cold this time of year.” Tony nodded, moving closer to him automatically, already lost in the warm lull of the sorcerer’s presence. Without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped the taller man in a one-armed hug, feeling him respond immediately with one hand on Tony’s back, the other on his shoulder. The thick fabric of the cloak-coat was soft against his cheek, revelling in the safety he felt pressed against Stephen’s tall, sturdy frame, the pain in his chest washing away completely. 

“It’s good to see you”, Tony muttered before pulling back, head dipped in slight embarrassment at breaking his own nonchalant facade, but Stephen just smiled, reaching into his pocket for his sling ring. 

“It’s good to see you, too. We can’t let this much time go between visits. I haven’t been able to eat much the past few days.” Tony frowned at his light comment, chest constricting in worry as he watched him make the movements to open a gateway. 

“You should have called me. I would have made sure I could come see you.” Stephen must have seen the regret burning in his eyes, offering a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Tony, I know to call you if it gets really bad.” The engineer just responded with a nod, giving Stephen a minute to open the gateway. It had only been in the past month that he had regained enough strength to control his magic again, though his abilities were currently restricted to opening gateways within New York, along with other simple spells. The progress had been a huge accomplishment in both of their eyes, a relief and a reason for joy. Several months ago, it had seemed like Stephen might never be able to use magic properly again. 

The familiar ring of gold sparks formed, eliciting a warm, almost affectionate glow to grow in Tony’s chest. He’d been there as Stephen struggled through the loss of half of his life force, and he was relieved to finally see signs of healing on the sorcerer’s part. He glanced over at the chiselled mask of concentration Stephen wore as he finished forming the gateway, surprised to find that he was proud of him. Proud of everything this man was, proud to have him as a friend.

They stepped through the gateway which opened to their favourite cafe in the Village, only a few blocks from the Sanctum. They quickly found their usual window seat which was surprisingly empty at this time in the afternoon, ordering their respective tea and coffee. Stephen expressed that he wasn’t nauseous for the first time in days, causing a pang of guilt in Tony’s chest which he hid, and they decided to order from the lunch menu. The waitress came and took their ordersand Tony found it ridiculously easy to fall into their usual banter. 

“Curried quinoa? What’s that even supposed to be? Quinoa’s like seeds or something, right?” Stephen raised a brow as he sipped his tea, mouth twitching in amusement.

“It’s actually a pseudo cereal grain, Anthony.”

“Don’t ‘Anthony’ me, you”, Tony quipped back, trying to hide a huge yawn behind his coffee mug. Stephen leaned forward on the table on his elbows, placing his chin on his bridged fingers as he regarded Tony with a grin. 

“I take it you didn’t sleep well last night?”

“Nah, my arm’s being a piece of shit, what else is new?” Stephen raised a brow again, gaze calculating even as he looked at Tony almost tenderly.

“Just your arm?”, he asked softly. Tony blinked. How did he know?

“Okay. Right, my brain’s a piece of shit, too. Nightmares and all that.” He waved a hand, taking another sip of coffee. “Nothing to be done about that, though.”

“Not exactly”, Stephen rumbled, refolding his napkin even though Tony had seen nothing wrong with it. “With your permission, of course, I could surround you with a spell which will prevent fight-or-flight responses in your amygdala during REM sleep, and lower the activity in that region of your brain.” Tony’s brow furrowed slightly. He understood what Stephen had said, but his wariness of magic meant he wanted to be sure about any risks that came with the spell. 

“English, please, Merlin?” Stephen sighed, but it was with affectionate patience. 

“The spell will reduce or maybe even eliminate your nightmares for as long as the spell lasts.”

“And how long does it last?”

“Two to three days at the most.” Tony considered this. A possible three nights of not worrying about his sleep being disturbed by haunting images sounded like absolute bliss. 

“And it’s not gonna mess with my brain in any way? Like, I’m going to actually be able to reach REM sleep?” Stephen titled his head slightly and gave him a look.

“Oh, please, Tony. When have you ever actually been able to reach REM?” He laughed lightly. “Though you might be able to now.” Tony bit his lip as he thought. No nightmares about Peter and Stephen dying? No nightmares about Thanos taunting him as he had for over a decade? It sounded too good to be true. But his trust of Stephen overrode his apprehension. 

“Okay, I’d like to try it.”

A moment of uncertainty overtook him, surveying the suitability of their current location, but he figured the residents of New York had seen much weirder things than a bit of mid afternoon sorcerery. Stephen pulled his chair around the table so their two chairs were almost touching, rubbing his hands together quickly to warm them before holding them up in front of Tony.

“‘I’m going to put my hands on either side of your head, and you might feel a bit of coolness or tingling, but I promise it won't hurt. It will take a few minutes to complete the spell, so stay as still as you can.” Despite the sorcerer being out of practice, Tony felt at ease even though he was completely vulnerable under his hands and his power. 

“I trust you, Dumbledore”, Tony assured with a grin, though his heart was pounding. Stephen humoured him with an eye roll, moving to cup Tony’s temples. 

“I’ll need to keep eye contact with you for only about ten seconds to establish the necessary sort of…mental link, you could call it.” Tony had been expecting the contact, but still had to suppress a gasp as cool, slim fingers pressed gently against either side of his head, molded around the curve of his temples and the edge of his jaw as if they belonged there. Stephen’s hand were large and steady in a soothing way, their shaking suppressed by magic, the pad of his thumb gentle as it rested against Tony’s scarred cheek. Tony felt his breath trapped in his chest at the contact; no one but himself and Morgan had touched that side of his face in nearly a year. He had to suppress the hot tears which suddenly threatened in the corners of his eyes, his throat becoming choked, like trying to swallow molasses. 

“Tony, you need to look at me”, Stephen guided, concentrating on forming the spell, so he hadn’t noticed Tony’s reaction to his touch. Tony forced himself to look up, hoping the dampness in his eyes wasn’t too apparent as he met the now familiar blue-green of Stephen’s eyes. Except they were like sea glass in this light, more silver than anything and Tony found himself getting quickly lost in them. He usually found direct eye contact with people uncomfortable, hence the extensive collection of shades, but he felt more steady than usual as he was held in the galaxy-colored depths before him. Stephen met his eyes gently, open wide and trusting, with almost the same fervency, though he had to visibly pull himself in to focus on the spell. 

“You don’t have to keep eye contact anymore”, Stephen mumbled softly, but Tony didn’t move. He couldn’t look away. Why would he want to? His heart was hammering in his ears, and his cheeks would have been flushed except the spell was emanating coolness the way Stephen had said it would. Tony suddenly noticed how close they were sitting to each other, Stephen’s chair pulled into the space between his legs, close enough so the sorcerer didn’t have to lean to reach him. His presence was warm, solid, the ache in Tony’s chest a distant memory as he was completely immersed in golden waves of relief and comfort. He dropped out of his dream-like daze as Stephen took his hands away gently, warm air rushing to replace them at the empty spot on Tony’s face. It felt wrong, like something was missing now. 

"Oh, my god", Tony breathed without thinking. All of his physical pain was gone, along with the terrible thoughts that had been plaguing him all day. "Where have you been all my life?" They both blinked in surprise at his words, Tony hiding a blush as he ducked his head. Goddamnit.

“How do you feel?”, Stephen rasped, nonchalant as he tried to ignore what had occurred seconds ago. Tony blinked several times, drawing himself out of his mind so he could actually focus on what his body was feeling. Nothing was out of the ordinary expect that he couldn’t remember his nightmare from last night. Even though he searched, his real life memories were still there, of course, but the specific dream from last night was gone. Peace washed over him, lifting a weight from his shoulders.

“I feel fine”, Tony managed, his throat still tight, like he’d forgotten how to talk. “Yeah, everything feels normal. Can’t remember my nightmare from last night, though. Should that have happened?” Stephen shrugged.

“Happy accident. Do you want it back?”, he teased, his eyes twinkling. Tony went to punch him playfully, but found he couldn’t, his hand landing on the sorcerer’s upper arm gently instead. Their eyes met again and Tony could feel the embarrassment wash over the other man, so he drew his hand back, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Thank you”, he muttered, still struggling to make his tongue cooperate.

“Of course”, Stephen said, though seemingly disappointed that he’d moved his hand. Tony coughed and lowered his eyes, watching the sorcerer move his chair back to its original spot. 

Their moment of vulnerability and feeling too much was seemingly forgotten as their food came.Tony sparked conversation with a quick quip, and they fell back into their usual comfortable camaraderie. But all the while, while Stephen smiled and told him a funny story from his first week at med school, Tony couldn’t help but think that that moment might have been a turning point. One of those moments you look back on and realize that it was one of the big ones. 


	10. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Pepper try to work through a sore point while miscommunication has Stephen believing that Tony is sick of his company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wong and Stephen interactions are so easy and fun to write. I love them. And as much as I’m prone to emotion-heavy scenes, I also LOVE writing action scenes that aren’t too hectic.

“I don’t know how you deal with that bullshit, honestly.” 

Rhodey scoffed at Tony’s remark, though it was more like a short huff of laughter. It was Saturday afternoon, meaning the colonel was over for his obligatory weekly visit to the Stark cabin, venting to Tony about his week over a few light beers. 

“Kinda comes with the territory, Tones”, Rhodey shrugged, leaning back into the sofa. “Though that mission I got sent on Thursday, that was a little out there.” He shook his head. “Seems like something you guys would have handled back in the day.” Tony shifted, uncomfortable, and he knew it must have shown on his face.

“‘You guys’? Meaning the Avengers? Sorry to break it to you, honey bear, but we’re not exactly functional anymore.” Rhodes gave him a look, brow furrowed a little.

“Obviously. I know that.” He gestured at Tony’s arm before he could stop himself, and had to watch something entirely different pass over his best friend’s face. Regret. “Besides, this probably would have been a little below your guys’ pay grade.”

“Enough with this ‘you guys’ stuff”, Tony growled, pulling himself forward like he was going to stand, but Rhodey pulled him back gently.

“Okay, okay. I get the message.” Rhodey decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “What about Pepper?” Tony blinked, his good eye showing his discomfort clearly. 

“What about her?”, he asked, more defensively than he would have liked. Rhodey gestured around.

“Well, where is she? I’ve been wondering since I got in the door, figuring you’d tell me, but you haven’t yet. What’s going on?” Tony shifted again, like the sofa was covered in ants. 

“Nothing’s going on. She’s out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah, out. Geez, Rhodey, why so nosy?” The colonel put both hands up to distill the confrontation.

“Sorry, didn’t know I was bringing up a sensitive topic.”

“It’s not. You’re not”, Tony said quickly, massaging his temples. His head hurt. He glanced over to where Morgan was colouring at the kitchen table. “We had an argument yesterday and I haven't had the chance to fix it yet, that’s all.” Tony had been out with Stephen longer than he’d meant to, getting home around their usual dinner time to find Pepper and Morgan still weren’t home. He’d gone to bed early, though he hadn’t meant to fall asleep before Pepper got home. He had woken up early the next morning to catch sight of Pepper leaving out the front door, armed with a bag and a travel mug. Concerned, Tony had texted her several times, but she had yet to reply to him. Morgan had woken up several hours later, asking where her mom was, and Tony had had to lie to her, saying Mommy was visiting a friend when really he had no idea where she was. 

“All this has been really rough on you guys”, Rhodey sympathized, a statement, not a question. He’d been there for most of it, he knew how the after effects of Tony’s Snap had slowly chipped away at their marriage. 

“That would be the understatement of the century.” Tony sniffed, trying to resist shifting his position on the sofa again. He felt the overwhelming urge to deflect. “So, you’re handling everything alright? You missing your back up, eh?” Rhodey grinned, though he knew exactly what Tony was doing. He’d do anything to prevent actually talking about a problem. 

“Oh, I’m suddenly not back up? That’s not what I’ve been hearing for the past decade.” Tony grinned in return.

“You’ve gotta be missing me watching your back, though. Sometimes I wish I could get back out there. Even just help out a bit, you know?”

“Out of the question”, Rhodey said, taking a sip of his beer and shaking his head. He pointed a subtle finger at Morgan, who had looked up from her colouring book, interest and concern piqued by her dad’s words. “You’ve got your little munchkin over there now, Tony.”

“I know, I know”, Tony muttered, love for his daughter inflicting his would-be dismissive tone. He sent her a look, like he was checking that she was still there. Satisfied that she was perfectly content in colouring a giraffe purple, he looked back to Rhodey. “It just feels a bit weird not doing it, I guess. It made me able to stand myself”, he said, almost too quietly for Rhodey to hear. It hurt to hear him talk about himself like that, like he hated himself even after all the good he had done. It just made Rhodey try even harder to show him how loved he was.

“You don’t need to anymore, though”, Rhodey insisted, voice gentle. “Rest, enjoy your family. Besides, it’ll take a good while for you to get used to that arm, right?” Tony lifted it a little, looking down and nodding, as if seeing it for the first time. “And by then you’ll have too much of a dad bod going on to even use the suit”, he said, gently poking at Tony’s side. 

It was a risk, making a light jab at Tony’s weight. On one hand, it was good that he was continuing to recover and be able to eat after the damage the gamma radiation had done to his body. But on the other hand, between his arm and the constant pain he was in, it was nigh impossible for him to do anything physical besides his physio, though even that was a struggle some days. Tony had mentioned his weight gain to Rhodey as a joke, the only way he knew how to talk about things that bothered him, but his friend knew how it affected him. Tony was worried Pepper was loosing too much of the man she loved, he was worried it was his fault that she barely touched him anymore, never mind his scars and the metal arm. Unfortunately, he didn’t respond the way Rhodey had hoped, barely able to pull off a grimace of a smile as his gaze kept jumping between him and Morgan. 

“Sorry. I was kidding, Tones”, Rhodey said, and placed a gentle hand on Tony’s metal shoulder.

“I know”, Tony assured with a rasp. “Just wish I didn’t feel so useless sometimes.”

“You’re not useless. Don’t be ridiculous, Tony. What you’ve done-.”

“Yeah, yeah, what I’ve done. That’s all the past. This is now and right now I feel like a burden. At least when I use the suit, it gives people a reason to like me.” Rhodey felt like he’d been punched in the chest, watching Tony watch Morgan, who was definitely listening to their conversation now. Tears glistened in Tony’s eyes. He turned to catch the affronted look Rhodey was giving him. “Not you, platypus. I know you love me.”

“Damn right”, Rhodey muttered, ignoring the tightness in his throat. “If it’s what you really want, you’ll be able to help with suit design and protection protocols eventually, but you just need to focus on getting better right now.” Tony lifted a brow, tilting his head in something like a half-nod. He’d heard him, but he didn’t agree. Rhodey had seen that look a million times, starting all the way back to their uni years together. If Tony Stark was anything, he was stubborn. “You’re not getting in a suit again, mister.”

“I know”, Tony whispered, too quiet for Morgan to hear, who had clambered down from the kitchen chair she was in. An enormous pout pulling her bottom lip out, brow furrowed as she climbed on the sofa beside Tony and laid on top of him, burrowing her face between his chest and his good arm. “Moguna?”, he asked gently, laying his hand on her back. “What’s wrong?”

“Stay here with me, Daddy”, she said in a small voice, muffled, not helped by the fact that her face was pressed against his sweater. Tony’s brow furrowed, glancing at Rhodey, confused.

“What’s that Morgs? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Morgan frowned again, letting Tony brush the hair out of her face gently. 

“Don’t go in the suit again”, she clarified, chin ducked to meet her chest, small fingers playing with the stitch of his knit sweater. “Don’t get hurt again.” Then she wrapped her arms across his ribcage again, hiding in the comforting warmth of his chest. Tony choked, blinking at her words. 

“Of course not, Moguna.” He kissed the top of her head tenderly. He stole a glance at Rhodey, who gave him a look like, _She’s right, you know._ “If that’s what you want, then I won’t use the suit. I’ll stay right here, okay?” A small nod. “I promise.” He caught Rhodey’s eye again, and immediately wished he hadn’t. His best friend’s face was saying, _Don’t you dare break that promise._

*****

Sweat was pouring down Stephen’s back in small streams. It poured down the divot his spine made, collecting at the small of his back. His underarms were clammy, hot droplets trickling down his forehead, collecting in his brows and then dripping into his eyes. He blinked, squinted against the sun, and wiped at his eyes with the back of his training gloves.

He was disgusted. Disgusted with the sweat covering him. Disgusted with himself and how weak his body was. 

“You keep dropping your left elbow”, Wong barked, turning his back on him for the first time that day.

“I can’t help it, I have a pinched nerve in my shoulder”, Stephen growled back, taking the chance to lean forward on his knees, panting. They’d been working for hours, the air coming into his lungs hot and dry. “Can we turn the fucking heat down?” Wong raised a patient brow.

“Frustration is no reason for unnecessary profanity.”

“I’m not frustrated, I’m hot”, Stephen snapped, watching his temper get the better of him. Wong grinned, a wry grin that Stephen had learned to hate. 

“We can open the windows once you relieve me of my staff.” Stephen groaned. It was winter, yes, but training in the designated workout room of the Sanctum seemed to have raised the temperature of the building by a hundred degrees. Not to mention they had been at it for hours, Wong pushing Stephen until he felt like he was about to crack. 

“How is this even helping?”, Stephen rasped. “My problem is with controlling my magic, not my body.” Wong’s arms dropped, squinting as if he were looking at an idiot.

“You control your magic with your body.”

“No. My mind.”

“Which is part of your body.”

“No. My brain is. I think I would know. You know, former neurosurgeon and everything.”

“Ah, yes. I forgot”, Wong said sarcastically. Stephen huffed, fighting a smile.

“I just feel like I’m wasting time and energy. I’d rather focus on strengthening my magic again, practicing spells instead of martial arts.” The senior sorcerer raised a brow, clearly amused.

“Your body has weakened as well as your magic, Stephen. A year ago, I would have been no match for you physically. You have deteriorated with the loss to your life force, you need this training to strengthen your body. Then you may focus on your spells.” Stephen sighed, letting his arms hang limp.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been through a bit this year. Give me a break, huh, Wong?”

“No.”

Stephen scrambled to brace himself as Wong swung his staff at him, blocking it above his head. He huffed, trying to push down, but the other sorcerer’s arms were locked. Stephen thought he saw something smug pass over his face.

“Goddamn you”, Stephen hissed. He spun, reaching around to be ready for Wong’s counter attack, but the staff connected with his shoulder instead with a solid whack. Stephen spat with frustration, pushing the offending staff away with his knee, almost waiting for Wong to knock his other foot out from underneath him. He used his momentum to push off and connect their staffs head on, but Wong was solid, his stance wide. That approach wouldn’t have worked even if Stephen were at full strength. Instead, he ducked under Wong’s next swing, tapping his off elbow with the end of his staff, dancing around his opponent before bombarding him with hits on his weak side. Only years of knowing him had let Stephen know that Wong sometimes favoured his left knee, so he focused there. He swung his staff low, forcing Wong to jump to avoid it. The other sorcerer scrambled for a moment to regain his footing, then poured down on Stephen with a rain of ferocious attacks. Stephen felt the wood staff connect with his thigh, his ribcage, then spun to avoid a hit on his shoulder again, only to receive it exactly on the pinched nerve in his shoulder.

“Oh, for the love of Vishanti!”

Wong’s only response was to tap him rather gently on the side of his neck with his staff, nearly stunning Stephen as he dropped to his knees. Panting, he barely had the strength to throw his own staff away in frustration. His muscles were burning, everything was shaking. His arms and legs were shaking, his lungs were shaking, head spinning as he felt bruises forming all over.

“I’m done. That’s enough.” His voice shook terribly. Sweat was dripping off the tip of his nose as he stared at the floor, watching it darken the wood in spots.

“Ten minute break. Then we continue.” Stephen sneered up at his friend, but received only a patiently tolerant look in return.

“Slave driver”, Stephen groaned, hauling himself to his feet, hanging on his staff like a cane. “Almost makes me miss Mordo. Though he wouldn’t have had any remorse in knocking me out cold on that last hit.” Wong folded his arms, glancing at the ceiling in contemplation.

“I’m softer than Mordo? I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” His smug look made Stephen sneer, staggering to the door of the training room. “Where are you going?”

“Checking my phone”, Stephen replied casually, which wasn’t a lie.

“Seven minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah”, Stephen muttered, going to the sitting room where he’d been reading earlier, grabbing his phone from the side table. Pulling up the string of texts under the contact _‘Douchebag’_, he entered a new message.

_Can you call me in five mins? Pretend you need me to come over._

He was hoping Tony saw the text sooner than later, though he reasoned that he was likely busy with his family on a Saturday afternoon. Of course he would be. Stephen scoffed at himself and conjured a large glass of water for himself. It was nice to have the use of simple spells back after months of operating without them. 

“Stephen?”

“Coming!”, Stephen called back. “For Vishanti’s sake”, he muttered, checking his phone as he walked back. Wong was already in a fighting stance when he re-entered the room, eyeing Stephen’s phone suspiciously.

“Stark?”, he asked.

“No”, Stephen replied, which wasn’t a complete lie since Tony hadn’t responded yet. He set his phone and water glass down on a bench, sighing as he grabbed his staff from where it was leaning against the wall. “We’ve been doing this for hours, I don’t know why you think another half hour is going to change anything.”

“We’ll keep going until you get it.” Stephen scoffed.

“By Oshtur we are. This isn’t training anymore, Wong. This is just you having too much fun.” Wong gestured down at his own sweat-stained training gear.

“You think this is fun for me? I’m doing it to help you, Stephen.” Something softened in the sorcerer’s chest, though he was too weary to pay much attention.

“I know, and I appreciate it. But I don’t think this particular training is helping.” Wong wasn’t impressed.

“We’ve already gone over your opinion of my methods. Let’s not fall into redundancies.”

“This exercise is redundant”, Stephen countered, sounding a little more childish than he would have liked. Wong was about to open his mouth again when Stephen’s phone rang, eliciting a jolt of joy in the sorcerer’s chest. He sent Wong a look over his shoulder which was borderline sardonic as he walked over and picked it up. “Hi, Tony”, he said as he looked straight at Wong before turning his back to him.

“Did Dumbledore get himself into a pickle?”, Tony asked in that way that would have been patronizing if his tone weren’t so affectionate.

“Some minor relish”, Stephen smirked, glancing at Wong, who’s arms were crossed as he frowned. Stephen could practically hear Tony’s smile as he replied.

“Did you actually wanna come over? Rhodey’s here, you two haven’t gotten to know each other that well yet, have you?” Stephen felt his chest flutter in anxiety. Oh God. Rhodey. _The _big gun.

“Y-Yeah. That would be great.” He noticed Wong was listening. “What ever you need.”

“What?”, Tony asked.

“Bear with me”, Stephen muttered. “I’m trying to get away from Wong.” 

“Ah, well, in that case, I desperately need you to come over. Pronto. Stat. _Rapido._ What ever word you wizards use for ‘quickly’.” Tony was joking, of course, always ready to dramatically play the part required, but his words set Stephen’s heart to pounding nonetheless. Trying to hide the flush in his cheeks, Stephen turned back around to make sure Wong did actually hear his next words.

“I’ll be right over. Just have to shower first.”

“Cleaning yourself up for me, wizard? I’m touched.”

“Ha ha. See you in half an hour.”

“See you, Steph.”

Stephen almost choked on the force of Tony shortening his name. The way he’d said it was debilitating. Intimate, familiar, like they’d known each other for years. He knew the pink tinge to his cheeks must have been unmistakable from the look Wong was giving him. Tired, and all too knowing. 

“How’s Stark?”

“Fine. He needs me to come over, though.” Stephen frowned slightly. “And you’re allowed to call him Tony.”

“Why would I?” Stephen shrugged. It was a good question.

“I don’t know.” Wong raised a brow. All too knowing. 

“Didn’t you see him yesterday?”

“Only for a bit.” That was a lie. They’d spent nearly four hours talking in that cafe. “And he’s in a lot of pain again. His chest.” He didn’t know if that part was a lie. Wong sighed, finally putting his staff back in the stand.

“As long as I’m not your taxi service anymore. It was back and forth, back and forth. All the time.” 

“Okay, okay, Wong. I get it.”

*****

Stepping out of the gateway, Stephen could feel there was something wrong the second the ring of energy snapped shut behind him. The front lawn was dusted heavily with frost, frozen grass crunching under his feet as he made his way to the porch. There was a disturbed energy surrounding the entire house. He could feel Tony’s presence, and it was agitated. Restless and unhappy. Tony must have been faking the easy affection he seemed to ooze during their phone conversation, putting up a front for Stephen’s sake. Stephen felt something in his chest crumble. He forgot sometimes how easily Tony could throw up his walls again, even after the sorcerer had been chipping away at them for eight months.

Stephen signed heavily, feeling condensation freeze on his facial hair, and knocked on the front door. Tony was a blur of distracted energy when he answered. Stephen noticed immediately that his cybernetic arm was in a heavy duty sling, a bad sign.

“Steph. C’mon in.” There it was again. Shortening his name like that. **_He gives everyone nicknames_**, Stephen told himself. “You look a little worse for wear.”

“Thanks”, Stephen said sarcastically, but without any malice. He couldn’t be defensive when his heart was melting from the inside out. The golden warmth Tony held in their shared life force seemed to reverberate and settle into its usual corners of Stephen’s soul, cushioning his joints, and softening his cold, empty edges. He decided not to mention that Tony also looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. “How’s the spell working?” Stephen followed him into the kitchen.

“Good, good. Out like a light last night. No nightmares. Nothing. Notta. Thanks again for that.” He was distracted, agitated, and Stephen couldn't help but think it was something to do with his presence. He was snapping repeatedly as he stared at the bubbling coffee machine, which Stephen had come to recognize as something he did when he was working through a problem in his head.

“You alright, Tony?” Tony blinked up at him, regarding the sorcerer’s face carefully until Stephen squirmed with self consciousness. They were facing each other, leaning against the counter and table respectively. Tony shifted his weight, looking away before answering. 

“Always. Like I said, no nightmares.”

“Okay, but-.”

“Coffee? Let me get you a coffee. And go say hi to Rhodey. He’s in the living room.” Stephen started. He hadn’t noticed the colonel’s presence when he had come in, but backed out of the kitchen, leaving Tony to glare at the coffee maker. Sure enough, the colonel was seated on the sofa, thoroughly looking like he’d been abandoned mid conversation while he nursed a beer. 

“Doctor Strange.”

“I’ve told you Stephen’s fine”, the sorcerer corrected gently as he took the armchair opposite him. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

“Alright. Worried about him”, Rhodey replied with a raised brow, jerking a thumb towards the kitchen. “But what else is new?”

“Well, it’s a full time occupation, I’m sure.”

“You’d know”, Rhodey replied with a look that was all too knowing for Stephen’s comfort. “With the split soul deal, and everything”, he clarified, allowing Stephen a breath of relief. “Like, I know he’s told me you can feel stuff, like when he’s awake, or whatever.”

“That was only once. I didn’t let that happen again”, Stephen said, immediately defensive, but Rhodey raised a hand in a soothing gesture.

“Nah, it’s all good. Gives me a break from monitoring him, right?” The colonel cracked a grin and Stephen felt himself returning it. 

“Right.”

“I mean, I don’t know about you, man, but he’s a wreck when he hasn’t seen you for a while. He just doesn’t want you to feel like you need to be around all the time.” Stephen’s heart did a weird flip flop in his chest at Rhodey’s words, forcing himself to nod as everything in him froze.

“Right”, he repeated, trying to maintain focus as his mind spiralled. He’d overstayed his welcome with his visits to the Stark cabin. He’d been calling Tony too much, he knew that now. Rhodey had practically just spelled it out for him; Tony didn’t want him around so much, even if it meant constant physical pain. He was getting sick of him and didn’t want him to come over anymore. Maybe Tony had never really liked him, maybe he had just been tolerating him while he healed, while he still needed to be in the presence of Stephen’s half of the life force. That must have been why he’d adopted an over-exaggerated friendliness on the phone, only for his energy to be practically brimming with distaste once the sorcerer actually showed up. 

“You okay, man?” Stephen’s head snapped up as he realized he had zoned out, the colonel watching him with concern. Stephen checked his own expression, blinking several times.

“Yes. Of course.” He squinted hard for a second, trying to concentrate. “Uh, what-what was it that had you worried about Tony? His, uh, was it his arm or…something else?” Rhodey balked visibly, uncertain.

“Uh, no. No, not his arm. He’s just dealing with some relationship stuff. Nothing you need to be worried about, though. He’s working it out.” Don’t be worried about it. Right. Relationship stuff. He couldn’t mean him, right? Stephen felt like he was going to throw up. 

“Right, okay. Um, I think I better get go-.”

“Coffee’s ready”, Tony announced as he entered the room, passing a mug to Stephen, practically forcing the sorcerer to sit back down as he stepped too close. Stephen’s mind was whirling, skin tingling from where Tony’s hand had brushed his. 

“I was actually just about to-.” But Tony was back out of the room as quickly as he had came, returning seconds later with his own mug, metal arm trussed up in its sling as it was. 

“Sure you don’t want one, sour patch?”, Tony asked his friend as he took the armchair across from Stephen, alive with trembling energy. 

“No”, Rhodey replied. “You just need to sit still for five seconds so we can talk about this.” 

“Not with him here”, Tony frowned, glancing over at Stephen, who had never felt so crushed as he did then. “No offence, Doc”, he remediated quickly, but his words fell on the sorcerer numbly, uselessly. Stephen held his mug of coffee like a lifeline, knuckles white even though it was hurting his hands. The brand of coffee was familiar and it smelled like Tony, or Tony smelt like coffee. It was tinted brown with a drop of milk, exactly how Stephen took it. His stomach turned sharply as he realized this was something Tony had picked up on over the past few months. 

“I can leave”, Stephen offered. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else. 

“Nonsense”, Tony interjected before Rhodey could reply. “You need to hide out from Wong, so stay here. We can talk about this anytime.”

“That’s-no, that’s not exactly true”, Rhodey cautioned. “There’s kind of a time crunch here, Tones.”

“It’s also kinda not really any of your business, so there’s that”, Tony growled, sipping his coffee. Stephen was about to interject, or suggest he was leaving again, he was’t sure which, when the front door opened. Tony jumped visibly, his face tightening into a nervous grimace, entrenching himself further into the bundle of tension he was currently occupying. “Pepper?”, he tried hesitantly, not moving from his position wedged in his armchair. High heels clacked on the wood floor, matching Stephen’s heart beat as Pepper came into view, expression clipped and uncomfortable.

“Ah, I see we have company”, she said, smirking as if she’d said something funny. “Haven’t you seen enough of these two lately?” Her voice was tense underneath, just barely holding onto a thin veil of politeness. It didn’t escape Stephen’s notice when she very pointedly avoided looking at him, instead focusing on Tony who was shifting in his seat as if it was agony to sit still. 

“What’s wrong with having these two over? I told you they both help me with…”, Tony frowned, not sure what they helped with, but he knew they helped. 

**_Oh, great,_** Stephen thought. Pepper didn’t want him over anymore either, though this was much less surprising. Her polite tolerance of the sorcerer in the beginning had lately turned into passive-aggressive disdain, to the point of leaving the room whenever he came to visit or pick up Tony. Her response was warranted, Stephen thought. He’d practically invaded Tony’s entire life, sometimes spending more waking hours with him than Pepper did. Of course she’d be pissed at him. He was pissed at himself, stuck between trying to melt into the chair and wondering how painlessly he’d be able to excuse himself without his voice breaking. Leaving with his dignity intact at this point would be a victory. 

Pepper had only frowned in response to Tony’s weak attempt at a rebuttal, hands on her hips.

“Right, but we have some stuff we need to talk about, I think. So, if you two don’t mind”, she said, raising a brow slightly as she addressed Rhodey and Stephen. “I’d like to talk with my husband alone.” Even Rhodey had been looking uncomfortable at this point, getting to his feet with a nod, muttering a goodbye to Tony and an apology to Pepper, providing Stephen with the opportunity to trail him silently out of the room. The sorcerer left without glancing at Tony, the thought of seeing any sort of spite or even relief on Tony’s face too much for him to bear. 

Levi settled on Stephen’s shoulders as he ducked out the front door quickly behind Rhodey, closing the door behind himself as quietly as possible. The colonel was silent as they paused on the porch, looking out at the grey drear, the first snow falling in thick, lazy flakes. The silence was deafening and Stephen didn’t dare shift his weight for fear of the porch creaking. 

“I shouldn’t have come”, Stephen croaked out, only realizing he had expressed this thought aloud when Rhodey turned to look at him. 

“What? No. None of that was your fault, man.” Stephen raised a skeptical brow, hating to contradict himself.

“Wasn’t it?” The colonel shook his head, pulling his gloves out of his coat pocket and pulling them on. 

“No. Come on, you know as well as anyone that those two have been through hell and back this year. Heck, so have you.” Stephen ducked his head, wishing Rhodey wouldn’t acknowledge what had happened. He didn’t deserve any sort of recognition for being a selfish, love-sick fool, especially not from Tony’s best friend. “Anyway, couples have spats. You just happen to be one of them.” Rhodey offered it as a joke, but Stephen took it as a punch to the gut. He found it hard to draw in his next breath, the air cold and stale in his chest once it had squeezed past his tight throat. 

“I’m not trying to be”, he offered numbly, mind whirring too much to think of anything less obvious to say. Rhodey laughed lightly. 

“Of course you aren’t. Just try to give them a bit of space, let them figure their shit out. I gotta get going.” He clapped him on the shoulder, letting his hand rest there warmly for a second. “See you around.”

“Bye”, Stephen choked out, watching him walk to his car before slipping down the snow-covered steps himself. He conjured a gateway almost robotically, not really seeing anything in front of himself, and it took Levi nudging him for him to step forward through the gateway. 


	11. Énouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out both Stephen and Tony are suffering from their separation, so makes a plan to bring them back together. Upon reuniting, both men realize how much of their relationship they haven't talked about. 
> 
> énouement  
n. the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Oliver Twist voice* Please, sir, may I have some more comment??
> 
> This is it. This is THE chapter. The chapter that inspired me to write this fic, and I'm so goddamn proud of it. So, have this thicc ass chapter and enjoy. (When you write one of the characters saying the title of your fic :D )  
Anyone who catches the Sherlock Holmes reference gets a gold star. (There’s three actually, but two are very subtle and limited to BBC Sherlock.)
> 
> Alternate title for this chapter is “Tony Struggles With His Self-Worth”.
> 
> FINALLY did things from Petey-pie’s POV, because my baby boy deserves some more attention in this fic. And setting up his and Tony’s conversation scene was inspired by my mom’s beau (who’s kinda the Tony to my Peter) teaching me how to play cribbage over Christmas <3<3<3
> 
> Peter be like: “Dad, get over your dramatic ass and go make up with your dumb wizard boyfriend.” Thank god someone around here has some common sense.
> 
> Closing scene inspired heavily by Billie Eilish’s “I Love You”  
“The smile that you gave me  
Even when you felt like dying  
We fall apart as it gets dark  
I'm in your arms in Central Park  
There's nothing you could do or say  
I can't escape the way, I love you”

Two hours of talking hadn’t resolved much, Tony pondered as he stared down at his mug of cold coffee. He and Pepper had ‘talked’ their way through every room of the house except Morgan’s bedroom after Rhodey and Stephen left, conversing in circles as they argued the same points over and over, but slightly different each time. 

Pepper was adamant: He needed to spend more time with her and Morgan. Morgan especially. He didn’t disagree with her on this, but it was hard to spend time with them when they left every time Stephen was invited over, or scheduled to show up. She was always running off with Morgan to some play date or errand, neither of which Tony could handle for more than an hour or two at a time if he were to go along. His pain medication was powerful, but once he’d reached his daily limit there were often times when he was left to simply ride the waves of pain, frozen in agony as he tried not to cry and scream into his pillow. He brought this point up to her and she relented a little. Well, of course he didn’t need to force himself to go out when he was in pain. So, why couldn’t they stay at home more?, Tony reasoned. Pepper didn’t say it, but it was because of Stephen. She had an obvious dislike for the sorcerer that Tony couldn’t quite wrap his head around, but they didn’t dwell on that point for long.

Why did Tony have to have him over _all_ the time, anyway? Okay, so they _were_ back on that. 

Tony’s mind was reeling, his headache from earlier settling into his temples like a stake being driven in with a mallet. Stephen helped with the pain. Pepper knew that. Being near Stephen’s half of the life force stopped the pain in Tony’s chest and helped everything else. But you don’t need to spend _so_ much time with him, Pepper countered. Surely some of that time would be better spent with Morgan? Tony had nearly pulled his hair out at this point, as they had approached this question from about four different angles by now. He couldn’t spend that time with Morgan instead because, without Stephen, he’d be in too much pain to do much of anything. And he wasn’t willing to have Morgan see him lose his mind with pain. She didn’t need to see him sob because it felt like someone was tearing his lost arm off inch by inch. She didn’t need to see him sick over the toilet for three days straight because his reformed organs hit a hitch in their code. Pepper argued that he should be able to better schedule when he took his pain meds so that he could spend his painless periods with Morgan, which set off the cyclical nature of their argument again.

Tony tried to find the words to explain how Stephen made his pain go away like nothing else. He couldn’t explain how his presence felt like golden warmth and light, like slipping into a pool of honey where he could be completely painless for as long as he stayed there. How could he explain that several thousand tons was lifted from his chest every time he saw the sorcerer, saw his smile? He couldn’t, he realized, not without sounding like he was in love with the man. It was ridiculous, how this severed magical energy they now shared had so closely entwined him to someone who was a complete stranger in the beginning. Someone who would have been a good friend within several years time, but it hadn’t even been one year and Tony felt like he’d known him his entire life. There was plenty that they didn’t know about each other still, but he was so incredibly comfortable in the sorcerer’s presence that it didn't even matter. 

“I thought you were fine with me needing to be around Stephen”, Tony sighed, trying once more even though it felt like a moot point. He was so tired right now.

“I didn’t know it would be to this extent”, Pepper admitted tearfully, forehead creased with stress, before turning and going into the kitchen, and Tony could hear her slamming cupboard doors and then chopping something vigorously. Several hours later, Morgan had been picked up from her playdate and they’d had a silent dinner. Now, Tony stewed over his mug of coffee while Morgan looked through a picture book across from him at the coffee table.

“Daddy, are you sad?” 

Tony looked up to meet his own brown eyes looking back at him with concern, guilt flickering through his chest at being so transparently miserable in front of her. He smiled reassuringly, reaching across the table with his good hand to give her hand a squeeze.

“No, Moguna. Daddy’s just tired.” Morgan seemed to consider this.

“Is your arm hurting?”, she suggested quietly, looking at the corner of her book instead of his face.

“No, it’s all good. I’m fine, baby. You don’t need to worry about me, okay? That’s my job.” Morgan nodded, but didn’t respond, like she didn’t believe him fully, and went back to her book silently. Tony watched her for a moment longer before digging in the pocket of his jeans, checking his surprisingly empty lock screen. Pepper had moved on to angrily baking in the kitchen, so he chanced sending Stephen a quick text.

_Sorry about today. Make it up to you with lunch?_

Pepper came into the room, dusting flour off her jeans as Tony slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Morgan, time for bed, sweetie. Go brush your teeth and maybe Daddy can read you a story?” She raised a brow at Tony, who nodded, giving her a glance before turning to Morgan.

“Yep. Let’s go, little miss. Teeth and PJs, then you can pick a book.”

“Yay!”

They held hands all the way to her room, Morgan’s picture book wedged under one arm as she ‘helped’ her dad up the stairs. She’d seen him stumble with weak leg muscles on the stairs more times in the past year than she was comfortable with, making her now slightly paranoid about him climbing them alone. Tony supervised and praised her teeth brushing, though she was completely capable of doing it on her own, his phone weighing heavily in his pocket as he waited to feel the text vibration. He was given a chance to glance at the lock screen while Morgan selected a clean pair of pyjamas, chest empty and hollow as the screen remained devoid of notifications. He was worried that his and Pepper’s argument, what he had seen of it anyway, may have driven Stephen off, or made him feel unwelcome at the very least. This worry intermixed with his guilt over his argument with Pepper, twisting together and settling into the pit of his stomach in a knot.

Morgan’s bedtime story was selected and read by the time Tony’s phone went off. He left several soft kisses on her already half-asleep forehead, before leaving her room, quietly shutting the door behind himself before pulling his phone out.

A text from Rhodey flashed on the screen and Tony couldn’t help the slight sliver of disappointment which found its way under this breastbone. 

_You okay?_

The disappointment was replaced with gratitude as Tony typed out a reply, and a hint of warmth sparked in his chest at his friend’s concern.

_I’ve been worse._

He then sent another text to Stephen, hoping the new notification would gain his attention.

_Lunch on Thursday? You free?_

Rhodey replied to his text.

_Use those sleeping pills if you need them. I’m off tomorrow if you need to talk._

_Thanks. Night, platypus._

Tony sighed, pushing away from the wall and shuffling down the hall to his and Pepper’s room. He could still hear her baking in the kitchen, less noisy than before, but since it was only eight o’clock, he figured she wouldn’t be up to bed for a while. He flopped down onto his side of the bed, wincing as he remembered that was a bad idea, his cybernetic arm contracting and sending a jolt of pain up into his shoulder. Groaning as he lied on his back, he held his phone above his face and typed a text to Stephen. 

_You alright?_

The typing bubble popped up almost immediately and Tony’s heart jumped in his chest.

_Won’t be able to make Thursday._

_Any other day work for you?_

_Really busy this week. Sorry._

Tony couldn’t help the sharp feeling of hurt which spread itself across his chest like spilled ink. He quickly reasoned with himself that it made sense that Stephen would be getting busier with his duties as a sorcerer now that he’d made good progress in his healing, and as he’d regained some of his magic abilities. He supposed he’d gotten used to having the sorcerer at his beck and call, while Stephen had always jumped to spend time with him. 

A creeping feeling of horror slowly consumed Tony’s chest, intermixing with the hurt, as a horrible thought occurred to him for the first time: Maybe Stephen was feeling used. 

Maybe he had felt used ever since that first dinner at the cabin, when the sorcerer had brought up how close proximity to each other would heal some of the physical pain they were both feeling. Had Tony been taking advantage of him this entire time? He hadn’t been intending to, that was for sure. Of course, the whole deal with their life force had bred a sort of premature dependence on one another, sparking the beginnings of a bond that might not have formed otherwise, or taken longer to form, at least. 

Tony tossed his phone across the bed, sighing deeply as he crossed his hands over his chest. He didn’t know what to reply, if there was anything to reply at all. How could he have been so blind to how the stoic sorcerer felt around him? Granted, it had seemed like they’d been getting closer over the past five months especially, Stephen’s layer of ice being chipped away ever so slowly. Tony sniffed, running his flesh hand down his face. Maybe he’d been imagining it. Maybe Stephen’s supposed comfort and ease had been a facade to hide how trapped he felt by their newfound relationship. 

A quiet sob caught in Tony’s throat. 

Stephen had given up a part of his soul, his life, his very being, and they hadn’t even talked about the premises of their new relationship. What did it mean to give a piece of yourself to a complete stranger? And so readily, it had seemed. Not that there had been a lot of time to dwell over it. 

Tony almost choked on the bile rising in his throat, rolling over as hot tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. Did Stephen regret giving him a part of his life force? Most people would. Splicing yourself in two and handing one half over to someone you had known for barely a day was as insane as it sounded. His mind spun desperately for a sane snippet of his thoughts that he could text to Stephen to try and confirm his own fears. But everything that came to mind was too desperate, too intense, too much. He stared blankly at the blinking cursor in the text field, thumb poised to type. A million frantic thoughts reeled in his head, but none of them were appropriate to put into words. After about ten minutes, once his arm had begun to ache, he let his arm and the phone drop to the bed. 

Footsteps sounded at the top of the staircase and Tony’s heart lurched, settling into a rhythmic thump while he listened intently, waiting for Pepper to come into view in the doorway. Instead, her footfalls faded away down the hall, heading towards the guest bedroom. 

_Oh_. That’s how it was...

Tony spent the rest of the night with his arms crossed over his stomach, falling in and out of a fitful sleep which was pockmarked by silent tears and periods of staring at his text messages. Never before had his heart felt so heavy, and he couldn’t help but feel that it was all his fault. 

*****

Some days Peter was completely fine. Other days it came in waves and washed over him, like a tsunami of pain and memories and horrible images that he was scared he might never be able to get out of his head.

Today was one of the good days, luckily. It was a Sunday, and he’d spent the morning with Tony, currently trying to wrap his head around the game of cribbage they were playing. Tony was teaching him, insisting that it was abysmal the teen didn’t know how to play a single card game. And apparently magic card tricks didn’t count. 

“No, no, you wanna put your bigger suits down first, okay? Especially if you have an ace or a five.” Tony’s tone was patient as he picked the card up and put it back in Peter’s hand. “Try again.”

“Wait, why? Aren’t I trying to get to fifteen?” Tony nodded.

“Yeah, but you want to save that in case we start another set, and the ace is for trying to get to thirty one.” Peter nodded, though he didn’t really understand, quirking a brow as he selected another card. He took his time, glancing up at Tony who was studying the pin board with a blank expression.

“You okay?”, Peter asked lightly. It was a dangerous question nowadays. They asked it a lot of each other, definitely more than the average person did, while prepared for the varied responses that were bound to come after all that had happened. He had noticed the way Tony’s left hand was a bit twitchy as he dealt out the cards, something that happened when his nerves and anxiety were getting the better of him. 

“What? Of course”, Tony replied, giving him the familiar look that said, _I’m the adult, you shouldn't be worrying about me._ “Put your card down, kid.” Peter complied, but kept a wary gaze on Tony’s left hand.  
  
“You just seem kinda antsy”, Peter said innocently, twiddling with his hands while glancing up to appraise his mentor’s expression. He was met by one dark eye, one milky blue, lowered brow pinching his features slightly.

“Nope”, he replied, popping the ‘P’ emphatically while avoiding eye contact. Clearly lying. He played his last card and then laid the stack out in front of Peter. “I’m fine. Alright, count your points out.”

“Mr. Stark”, Peter insisted, making sure his voice didn’t evolve into a whine.

“I’m alright, I’m all good”, Tony said airily, hands spread wide. “I don’t know what you’re getting all worked up about. I’ve never been better.” Peter’s enhanced vision didn’t fail to notice the sharp intake of breath when Tony raised his hands too high, quickly dropping them as he masked the jolt of pain by spreading his own cards out. 

“The vein in your forehead says differently”, Peter muttered under his breath, laying his cards in sets to make fifteen. Tony scoffed in aghast horror at his response, though playfully.

“I cannot believe - are you accusing me of lying? You better watch it there, young whipper snapper”, Tony drawled, giving the teen a crooked smirk, and Peter’s heart thumped soundly with affection. 

“‘Course not. Just worried about you”, he admitted.

“Don’t be”, Tony growled good-naturedly, moving his peg on the board several spaces. Peter still felt the unrest stirring in his chest though, determined not to be swayed by Tony’s defensive attitude. He followed suit, placing his white marker six holes away from its previous position.

“You’re kicking my ass”, Peter observed matter-of-factly. He needed to set up their conversation so Tony didn’t suspect he was being questioned about his well-being. A different plan of attack was in order. 

“It takes practice to get strategic with it. Experience will tell you what cards to keep once you start to notice what moves might be possible. Here, shuffle these for me. You need the practice.” Peter took the deck Tony handed messily to him, even though it was his turn to deal. Peter noticed how his cybernetic arm was shaking of its own accord, causing Tony to clamp his good hand around his wrist, chest heaving silently, though he tried to downplay his discomfort. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’m okay”, Peter responded, dropping a few of the cards as he shuffled them, even though he knew Tony would grab something for him to drink anyway. The man had long ago picked up on his tendency to decline offers of food even when he actually wanted something, combating this habit by simply proffering food and drink whenever he got it for himself. 

He watched as Tony got to his feet with some difficulty, leaning on the table with his good arm too heavily, stumbling a little as he walked the few feet to the fridge.

“Do you want me to-?”

“Just shuffle those cards”, Tony responded a little shortly, pointing at the deck. Peter rolled his eyes slightly. The man was too proud for his own good sometimes. He watched as Tony took a bottle of ginger ale out of the fridge, Peter’s favourite, and poured it into two glasses, pushing one across the table in front of the teen. He saw Tony’s jaw set as he braced himself to lower himself back into his seat, a grimace passing over his face as a visible muscle contraction squeezed his chest. He huffed a deep breath involuntarily, causing Peter to meet his eyes with raised brows.

“Do you need your pain meds?”, he asked, feeling like he wasn’t nearly competent enough to ask such an adult-sounding question. 

“Nope. Already took them”, Tony groaned, doing his damnedest to pretend he could still focus on their game. “Deal those out for me?” Peter ignored his request, setting the deck down with a small frown, his own jaw set in determination

“If you took them, you shouldn’t be in this much pain. If they aren’t working, then maybe you need to up the dosage or-.”  


“Peter”, Tony cut in sternly, embarrassment showing in his good eye. “I get enough of this from everyone else, I don’t need you treating me like some incompetent invalid.” He took a breath, looking guilty for speaking in a hard tone. “I’m just sick of all of it, alright? Sick of my body, sick of my head, but you’re the kid here and the last thing you need is to be worried about me.” Peter looked down at the deck of cards he had rested his hands on.

“But I care about you”, he said in a low voice. “I just don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”

“I’m...not. My meds are working, everything’s fine. Alright? Deal the cards.”

“You’re lying to me”, Peter said, forehead tight, hating how his voice broke. Tony’s brow creased, frowning to see the teen tearing up.

“Pete-.”

“If your meds are working, then why are you in so much pain again? You haven’t been this bad in months”, he insisted almost desperately.

“It’s just been this past week that it’s gotten bad again”, Tony admitted, mumbling under his breath as he spun his glass of ginger ale around with his good hand. Peter’s brow furrowed, concern and anxiety making his heart thump in his chest. This man meant everything to him; thinking of him being in constant, excruciating pain was painful within itself. 

“Why? Do you know what happened? Has anything changed?” The look on Tony’s face - which Peter was surprised to find looked embarrassed - told him that he knew exactly what had happened to cause this sudden change for the worse. His mentor drew a hand through his hair tiredly, looking older than usual as stress pinched his features, his eyes adopting a faraway look as he avoided Peter’s gaze. 

“I, uh, it’s not really -.” Tony stared blankly at the ceiling for a second, brow furrowed in a frown. His expression clearly said that he had no idea how to word this appropriately, and Peter felt like he was about to become privy to something that was none of his business, something that would be uncomfortable for him to know. Tony took a deep breath before letting it out again. “You know how Strange and I are linked now, with the life force thing?” Peter nodded. Tony had explained everything to him in as much detail as was appropriate, though Peter hadn’t had a lot of time to form much of an opinion about the whole thing, as he was busy dealing with everything going on in his own head. All that mattered to him was that the sorcerer helped Tony experience less pain on a day-to-day basis, and for that he was grateful to him. But now the pieces clicked together.

“You haven’t seen him this week”, Peter said, more of a statement than a question, and was satisfied to see Tony nod, though reluctantly. 

“Two weeks, actually. But that shouldn’t be a problem. I can’t be so dependent on him, I mean, the guy does have a life besides being my human pain medication.” Peter decided there was something both odd and endearing about that statement. He could also see that Tony was trying to downplay how much the situation, even the words, were affecting him emotionally. 

“But I’m sure he’d come over if he knew you were in a lot of pain.” Tony’s head snapped up.

“Hey, now, I’m not guilt-tripping him into coming over. Just because I’m too much of a wuss to handle a couple of muscle aches.” Now it was Peter’s turn to give an unimpressed look. He knew the discomfort that Tony felt, the aches in his chest especially, could render him bedridden and unable to move for long stretches of time on the bad days. He knew because he had spent hours with Tony on those days, just lying with him silently or talking when ever Tony felt well enough. Casually belittling the soreness and aches he felt as his body tried to recuperate after a full-body douse of gamma radiation was a disgusting understatement of what he was recovering from. 

“You guys like hanging out together, though, don’t you?”, Peter asked, feeling out of place, as if some adult version of himself should be having this conversation instead. “Like, you’re kinda friends now, aren’t you? I thought you were, at least.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally”, Tony nodded, looking uneasy. “It’s just, well, we had a bit of a disagreement. Well, Pepper and I did…about Stephen, I suppose you could say. But it’s not his fault. My fault, actually, more than anything.” He blinked, apparently realizing he’d said too much, though Peter didn’t understand anymore of the situation. His confusion must have been evident on his face as Tony sighed, drawing a hand down his face again, taking a sip of his ginger ale as if to wash the taste of his jumbled words out of his mouth. He pressed his fingers to his temples, resetting his brain to try and make some semblance of sense. 

“Look”, Tony started again, setting both hands on the table in front of him. “There’s some complicated stuff that I need to work out - that I’ve been trying to work out, which Stephen inadvertently got caught up in the middle of. Not his fault.” Peter watched him chew on his cheek, working out his next words more carefully. “But this whole thing with relying on him to make my pain lessen…it couldn’t last forever, right?”

“But if your medication isn’t working”, Peter interjected. “And being around Doctor Strange is the only thing that works well enough so you’re not in pain, then I think should work through what ever you need to so you can spend time with him again.” Tony blinked, like he was surprised and simultaneously expectant of how mature Peter sounded. 

“It’s not that simple”, he said numbly, making Peter’s chest tighten with frustration. 

“Yes, it is. It’s none of my business what’s going on with you or Mrs. Stark, or whatever, but can’t you just call him? Tell him you’re in a lot of pain? Or word it differently, I don’t know…”

“I have”, Tony supplied dejectedly, though he tried to hide it. “I texted him a couple times and he’s just been busy, that’s all.” Tony took a deep breath and Peter was pretty sure he didn’t imagine the glossiness he saw in his good eye. “I don’t want him to feel used, Pete. Like you said, we_ are_ friends, and friends don’t treat each other like shit.” 

“If he’s actually your friend, he’ll want to help you”, Peter said stubbornly, and he could feel his brow furrowing in that way that May always infuriatingly said was cute. Tony sat up slightly, like he was physically building a defence. 

“I’ve been in contact, alright? He says he’s busy. You gotta remember, just cause he’s had all the time in the world to goof off with us while he was healing, he is Sorcerer Supreme, whatever that means. He’s got a lot on his plate, so I can’t hold it to him if he does’t have the time or want to hang out anymore.” Tony relayed all of this matter-of-factly, but Peter could hear the emotion bubbling underneath his rock-hard composure. He was seriously hurt by the loss of his closeness with the sorcerer, and the thought made something in Peter’s chest boil. 

“I’ll call him if you don’t”, he muttered darkly to the deck of cards, an empty threat as he would never invade Tony’s business like that unless he thought it was completely necessary. Though maybe it was necessary if Tony continued to be this stubborn. 

“Deal the cards, Underoos”, Tony grinned as he called his supposed bluff, reaching across the table to ruffle his curls good-naturedly to signal an end to their serious conversation. Peter complied, though he did so with a pout that was meant to imply that Tony hadn’t won the argument completely. 

“I’m gonna kick your ass this time”, he declared, dealing Tony his six cards. His mentor gave him an affectionate smile that worked away at the concern knotted in his chest.

“Petey, honeybun, you’re thirty points behind me. Not gonna happen, kid.”

*****

Peter had felt small before, sure, but never quite as small as he did standing in front of the Sanctum Sanctorum, craning his neck and leaning back to look up at the top of the five-story building. He recognized the seal on the uppermost circular window, and it took a moment of sorting through his brain before remembering that he’d seen it on Doctor Strange’s amulet. His heart pounded in anxiety as it had been since this morning, in anticipation of his surprise visit to the Sanctum all day. It was only a week after his conversation with Tony over their game of cribbage, but he knew it was time for him to take matters into his own hands.

He had been over for his customary weekend visit to the Stark cabin again, and had been shocked and worried at how much worse Tony had gotten in the week since he’d seen him. It wasn’t unusual for Peter to make it Upstate on a school night, but this week had been particularly busy homework-wise, so he had decided to wait until Sunday. Now, he regretted it, seeing Tony laid length-wise on the couch, a cold cloth covering his eyes, not even able to get up to answer the door.

“C’mon in, Pete”, Tony had called and Peter had let himself in, toeing his boots off at the front door and dropping his backpack on a chair. He’d come into the living room, expecting Tony to be reading or messing around on his tablet, instead finding him nearly comatose as he was so knocked out on pain meds that he couldn’t keep his eyes open and his speech was slurred. It was also obvious that the pain meds weren’t working, as Tony held his face in a grimace which only got worse with each breath. He had tried to sit up, Peter had tried to stop him, but Tony was stubborn and forced himself into an upright position anyway. In that moment, trying to hold a conversation with his delirious mentor who was forcing words around the stabbing pain in his chest, Peter knew exactly what he needed to do.

And so, that visit led him to a decision which changed his after school plans, taking him from the familiarity of his usual bus route on a Monday afternoon. He stayed on past his stop and crossed the bridge to Manhattan, enduring all fifty minutes of the crowded, rattling bus ride which would take him to Greenwich Village. 

Now he stood, scarf pulled up around his face in the cold, staring up at the building and the door in front of him, rooted to the spot as though his boots had become frozen to the wet pavement. Any words of encouragement he might have had for himself were swept away on the wind which buffeted his thin jacket, cursing himself for neglecting to grab his winter coat that morning. 

“C’mon, Peter”, he muttered to himself as he strode up the front steps and finally knocked on the door. “For Mr. Stark.” It wasn’t that he was intimidated by Doctor Strange so much as the ominous majesty of the Sanctum itself, feeling very small as he stood in front of the door. And it didn’t help that Peter had just realized the sorcerer might be busy, or an unexpected visitor at the Sanctum may be unwelcome. He was able to stop himself from jumping when the door was suddenly thrown open, revealing the glowering figure from within. Definitely not Strange, Peter decided instantly, for this man was squat and broad, wearing a burgundy tunic similar to the one Peter had seen the Sorcerer Supreme wear. Doctor Strange had mentioned him enough times that Peter had been able to produce a mental image of his friend, and wasn’t disappointed by reality. His mind scrambled for the man’s name for a moment, panic settling in under the sorcerer’s accusatory gaze.

“Uh, sorry. Hi, Wong, right?” No negative reaction. No reaction at all, actually. “Um, I’m Peter. Peter Parker? You’re Doctor Strange’s friend, right? Or are you someone else? Are there other wiz-sorcerers here or-? Sorry, I don’t know how it works, I was just…uh, could I maybe speak to Doctor Strange?”

“I’m not his receptionist”, Wong finally growled, but retreated back into the Sanctum, leaving the door open in what Peter took as a sign to follow him in.

Peter wasn’t sure what he had been expecting the inside of the building to look like, but this was certainly close. Very Hogwartsy. It was cleaner than he’d expected, or at least the foyer was. He’d expected a lot of dust for some reason, but maybe that was reserved for the books, none of which were in sight. Peter unzipped his coat as he spun around once, taking in the regal, dark wood of the foyer, ridiculously satisfying in its symmetry. He watched as Wong started walking up a large flight of stairs which were incredibly wide, Peter thought.

“Should I follow you?”, Peter asked carefully. Wong gave him look that could have meant anything, but didn’t mean no, leaving the teen to hurry after him up the steps. He followed the sorcerer down a long hall lined by ornate windows, the sunlight filtering through to make the wood gleam and the glass sparkle. Wong was silent as they walked, Peter struggling to keep up though the sorcerer seemed to be walking at a leisurely pace. “Are you a Sorcerer Supreme too?” Wong looked at him like he was an idiot.

“There is only one Sorcerer Supreme at a time.”

“Oh.” Peter glanced at some of the tapestries on the walls as they passed, wanting to see if they were as textured as they looked, but he also decided that touching anything would probably be frowned upon. Mostly by Wong. “Is Doctor Strange busy? I don’t want to bother him if-.”

“The Sorcerer Supreme is usually busy, yes.” Wong shrugged. “But I have no clue what he’s doing. Like I said, not his receptionist.”

“Right. Sorry.” Wong gave him a look that was less accusatory, but Peter couldn’t decipher much past that.

“Stop apologizing.”

“So-. Okay.”

At the end of the hall they came into a room that was made of books. Or so it seemed. Books lined the walls floor to ceiling, covering the floor in a pile that was big enough to be used as a table which held more books on top. Books were stacked on the windowsills so they blocked half the window, dust filtering through the sunlight allowed through the top half. There were bookshelves too, so covered in books that you couldn’t even seen the wood. The only decoration in the room was a patterned red carpet, visible right by the door and in narrow paths between all the stacks of books. And in the middle of this sea of books, looking more than a little flustered, was Doctor Strange.

“Strange”, Wong barked, getting the sorcerer’s attention. “Stark’s kid is here.” Peter’s cheeks flushed at the title, trying to hide his embarrassed joy.

“Peter”, Doctor Strange greeted pleasantly with a small smile as he looked up from the stack of books he was working on, his voice much smoother in contrast to Wong’s. “How are you doing?”

“Good”, Peter was distracted by the empty spot beside him previously occupied by Wong, but heard footsteps receding back down the hall behind him. “Uh, how are you?” Strange gestured to the sea of books.

“A little overwhelmed. Trying to reorganize the history volumes in Wong’s collection, but it’s not going as smoothly as planned.” Peter balked, looking around the room.

“These are all history books?” Strange laughed, a deep sound that filled the corners of the room.

“No, just-“, he gestured vaguely to several piles, “-this section. I’ve yet to tackle any other subjects, though just gathering these has taken me a week.” He picked his way out of the pile, disappearing behind a bookshelf for a few seconds before reappearing around another stack. “Anyway, enough about this mess.” He set the book he was holding down on a nearby pile as he walked towards Peter. As he got closer, Peter noticed he looked paler than usual, maybe a bit thinner as well, while his hands were deliberately hidden behind his back. “I’m sure there’s a reason for your visit.” Peter suddenly felt slightly guilty for never visiting before, but pushed past it. They saw plenty of each other at the Stark cabin anyway. 

“Uh, yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something, I’m…I’m not sure if I should be, exactly, but I feel like I need to.” Strange raised a contemplative brow.

“Go on.”

“Well, for starters, Mr. Stark doesn’t know I’m here.” This hit a distinct cord with the sorcerer, Peter could see, but Strange hid it well. “He’s, uh, well, he’s not doing so well lately. I know with your life force thingy, you guys are kinda connected or something, and he said he hadn’t seen you in two weeks, and then I went and saw him yesterday and he could barely move because he was in a lot of pain so he took a lot of pain meds. But then the pain meds weren’t working, so he was still in pain and he told me how you’re the only thing that actually helps the pain, but he doesn’t want you to feel used or something? Then there was something with Mrs. Stark, but he didn’t really tell me about that, obviously. I just think that whatever disagreement you guys had you need to work through, because I know you’re his friend and he needs your help, but he won’t listen to me and talk to you himself because he’s so goddamn stubborn...so I’m here.” Peter was taking shaking breaths by the time he had finished, blinking at the tears that had accumulated in his eyes as he spoke. He met the sorcerer’s face and was surprised to find sympathy and worry written over his face as opposed to annoyance. Surprised, but relieved.

“That’s, um”, the sorcerer cleared his throat. “I’m glad you came. And, um, Tony and I didn’t have an argument, he just doesn’t want me around anymore.” Peter was almost overwhelmed by the heartbroken look on the sorcerer’s face, but got distracted by the blatant untruth of his words.

“Wait, what? That’s not true, he’s-.” Peter paused. He couldn’t say heartbroken. Or devastated, though those were both the most accurate descriptors for the look he’d seen in his mentor’s eyes last week. “He misses you. What ever made you think that, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. Extremely wrong.” Doctor Strange blinked several times, looking overwhelmed, nodding slowly as he leaned against one of the book-covered windowsills. 

“Alright, I believe you. I’ll, uh, get in contact with him, then. Thank you, Peter.”

It had been infinitely easier to convince Doctor Strange to brush away his pride and get in contact with Tony, and Peter was proud of the chance he’d taken going to see him without Tony’s knowing. Doctor Strange was every bit as stubborn as the engineer, but in a different way. While Tony was closed off about emotional matters, Peter had noticed the sorcerer tended to hold steadfast when he felt strongly about his intellectual standing in a situation. And it seemed that he was particularly pliable when it came to anything concerning Tony’s well-being, physical or otherwise. 

*****

Tony stared down at his phone blankly for the seventeenth time since he’d received the text from Stephen.

He was in the passenger seat of his own Audi while Happy drove, which stung a little, but there wasn’t much he could do with his cybernetic arm acting up as it was. Besides, he was barely in a fit enough state to be out in public, never mind well enough to drive. Tony looked down at the text again, simultaneously relieved by its existence and offended by its nonchalant simplicity.

_Come by the Sanctum this week. Tomorrow, if convenient._

That had been yesterday, when he’d heard the sorcerer’s custom notification go off, and he was still appalled by how casual the text sounded.

“‘_If convenient_’”, he growled, turning to Happy. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I have no idea”, Happy replied idly, concentrating on navigating the Manhattan traffic. “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it means exactly what it says and nothing else. And maybe you need to chill out before you get yourself all worked up again.” Tony flicked him in the side of the head, receiving a frown.

“Don’t go all _Driving Miss Daisy_ on me. I’m not an old woman having a fit, okay, Hap? You’re the one who needs to chill.” Happy gave him a look which Tony worked very hard to ignore. 

“Tell that to the corner of your glass table.” Tony gaped, but his drug-marinated brain couldn’t come up with a good enough retort, so he shut his mouth and stared ahead instead. They drove in silence until Happy pulled up in front of the Sanctum, rush hour traffic crawling by as they miraculously found a parking spot. “Spooky-looking”, Happy commented, leaning forward so he could survey the entire building. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“I’ll be fine”, Tony replied, though he was less sure than he had been an hour ago. “This isn’t going to be a conversation open to spectators anyway.” Happy nodded, giving him a look that was all too knowing.

“If you’re sure.” Tony wasn’t sure, but nodded.

“Yep, thanks for the ride, Hap. N’ sorry for being a dick.” Happy smirked.

“Yeah, well, you’re only this much of a dick when you’re in a lot of pain, so…”, he pointed to the Sanctum. “Go get this sorted out. How long do you think you’ll be? Want me to wait here?”

“No, it’ll be a while.” Tony opened the door, early winter air prickling his bare arm as he stepped out, leaning down so he could still talk to Happy. “Go home. I’ll call you, or take the bus to Pete’s or something.”

“No, call me”, Happy insisted. “And take your coat.” The door was shut on his words as Tony gave him a cheeky wave and walked up the steps to the Sanctum, unsteady despite himself. His head was already pounding, cold seeping under the fabric of his long-sleeve, and he pulled his rolled-up sleeve down. He knocked, head low against the wind, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Happy had left. He didn’t want him sitting there waiting for who knows how long. Tony’s stomach was coiled in knots of anxiety, hidden well by his surface annoyance brought on by the crippling ache in his chest, the trembling of his limbs. He had lied to Pepper about where he was going with Happy, so guilt worked its way under the anxiety. The door was finally thrown open and Wong exuded annoyance, though maybe a little less so in Tony’s presence.

“Stark”, he greeted, blunt, but respectful, and gestured for him to come inside. 

“Hey. Strange is here, I take it?” Tony felt distracted, jittery, his left hand twitching of its own accord. He hated the feeling, like he was going to tremble his way out of his own skin. 

“Second floor. Study to the left of the staircase. You know it.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Wong.”

Oh, for god’s sake, he was getting nauseous as he trudged up the stairs, though the prickling feeling on his skin had stopped as he got used to the warmth of the Sanctum. The warmth only increased as he turned down the hall, though he realized it wasn’t just external anymore. His chest was absolutely blooming with warm relief that felt like taking a soothing sip of a warm drink, encompassing his chest with pleasure and comfort. It trickled down into his limbs, warming his core, working him back to life as he got closer to the other piece of the life force. It wasn’t as if all of his pain dissolved, though. His headache was still pounding in his temples like a sledge hammer, nausea knotted in his stomach, while his metal arm felt as if someone was slowly tugging it off his body. 

Clutching the artificial limb to his body, Tony entered Stephen’s study, the subtle scents of incense and mint filling the air. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the anxiety rising in his chest, choking him from the inside out like reverse drowning, but it was no use. Various possibilities of how their conversation might go flooded his thoughts, though he tried desperately to block them out. In Tony’s mind, it could go one of two ways: One, they worked through the obvious miscommunication and things could go back to normal, whatever normal meant nowadays. Two, he had offended the proud sorcerer and damaged their relationship to the point of no return, and they would go their separate ways. The second option was unbearable, so he pushed it away. He couldn’t lose Stephen, and not just because of the pain relief he offered. No, he was so much more to Tony, though he didn’t have the words to describe it. 

“Hey, Tony.” Tony turned to face the sorcerer, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He looked tired and grizzled, exactly like Tony felt, his hair in slight disarray. He was looking at Tony like he was watching the most beautiful flower bloom, and Tony almost choked at the magnitude of affection in his eyes. Even worse was the flicker of fear, the fear of getting hurt.

“Hey”, Tony responded numbly, not sure what else to say. His arm had gone numb, the shooting pain reduced to a dull ache that was much more bearable. He wondered if Stephen had anything to do with it. 

“Thanks for coming. I thought maybe you wouldn’t.”

“I was surprised to get your text, honestly.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have texted you…” Tony’s heart broke a little. “I didn’t want to bother you. But Peter said you weren’t doing well and that your meds weren’t working, so I-.” Tony met his eyes in confusion.

“The kid was here?”

“He was worried about you”, Stephen explained gently, the look on his face saying that he was as well. “And it seems he had every right to be.” Tony tugged at his sleeve self-consciously, wondering if there had been that much of a visible change in three weeks.

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that, Strange. I’m not your patient or anything, so how I’m doing physically isn’t really any of your concern, life force or not.” The words came out harsher than Tony had intended, and he regretted saying them immediately. “Is that why Pete came to you? ‘Cause I told him you used to help me?”

_Used to_. Stephen had to bite his lip to keep from tearing up. Is this what their bond had been reduced to? He cursed himself for being so clingy, for visiting Tony too often, for splitting a rift in his marriage. Goddamn him and his clingy, stupid ass. 

“Yes, I suppose. Like I said, he was worried about you.”

“He shouldn’t have-.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “He shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“He wasn’t bothering me. Don’t tell him that he was, I don’t want him to-.”

“You think I would actually say that to him?” Tony looked offended. “The kid feels guilty for asking for a glass of water. I’m not a monster, Strange.” Stephen nodded in acceptance, trying hard to ignore that apparently they were back to a last name basis. 

“I know. Sorry, I was just-.” He didn’t know what he was doing. He’d been miserable the past three weeks without Tony and now that he was standing here in front of him, he had no idea what to say. Tony’s brow was pinched, staring at the floor as he was obviously gearing himself up to speak.

“Why’d you start avoiding me?”, Tony asked suddenly. He couldn't bear dwelling on that question in his head anymore. It was a mental nightmare. “Not once have you declined plans to get together and then, out of nowhere, you start ghosting me.” Tony held back his tears, for now, at least. “You weren’t even texting me back, what’s with that? What’d I do?” Stephen blinked, completely blindsided.

“I-I thought you, uh…didn’t want me around anymore. What with Rhodey said-.” Something in Tony’s eyes snapped.

“What the hell did Rhodey say?”

“Last time I was over he, uh, mentioned that you didn’t want me to feel like I needed to be around all the time.” Stephen glanced up to find Tony looking at him, mouth pulled into a tight line, though the corner was quirked up in the beginnings of a grin.

“And you took that as me not wanting you around anymore?” Stephen blinked again, suddenly feeling very stupid.

“Well, yeah. And you sounded happy to see me when we were on the phone, but I got there and…well, I could _feel_ how angry you were. Your energy-.”

“Stephen”, Tony interjected, forcefully but not unkind. “I had just had a fight with Pepper the day before and I knew she was coming home soon. That’s why I was pissed. At myself”, he clarified, tilting his head slightly. His voice softened. “Why the hell wouldn’t I want you around?” Stephen could think of a million reasons, but explaining would take too long, so he shrugged instead.

“I don’t know. I’m sure you could find your reasons.” Tony gave him a look that was enough on the teasing side of sympathetic that Stephen didn’t feel like he was being pitied. 

“You’re ridiculous”, Tony rasped, affectionate. Stephen grinned despite the nagging feeling of apprehension in his chest, dropping his head to stare at his feet. They’d moved closer to each other almost subconsciously throughout their conversation, like two opposite magnets drawn into each other’s orbit. “We’re, um, both ridiculous, actually. I thought you were pulling away because I’d been taking advantage of you.” Tony’s face fell slightly. “Have been. Still am, actually. Kind of doing it right now.” Stephen’s brow furrowed.

“What? What do you mean ‘taking advantage’?”

“Using you so I’m not in constant pain, Stephen! Like Peter told you, my pain meds do shit all! I’m so drugged up right now you have no idea, and I still feel like I’m being torn in half!”

“So, let’s just keep doing as we were. I’ll still visit and we can spend time…I’m sure Pepper will understand if you-.” Tony cut him off, frustrated. 

“No, she won’t. She doesn’t. That’s not her fault. I don’t understand it myself most the time.” Stephen frowned.

“Our life force-.”

“No, Steph, I know that part, obviously. I mean…it’s because of the life force that we’re still in each other’s lives at all, right? Like, if not for the physical effects of being apart, do you think we’d even be friends?” Stephen had to focus hard on not tearing up, doing so by forcing himself to keep his eyes on Tony, as much as his heart was slowly shattering. 

“I’d like to think so, yes”, he said, choked up. That was something he had never questioned. After all the futures he’d seen, he knew he would go to the ends of the universe for Tony Stark. “I’d hope so.”

"Oh, piss off, Strange. Admit you feel a little obligated to be around me.”

“Tony-.”

“I did take half of your life force, after all!”

“You didn’t take it, I gave it to you. More than willingly.”

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” Stephen felt like his heart had stopped, forgetting how to breathe as he watched Tony’s face break down in grief. He realized in that moment that Tony’s anger wasn’t actually anger, it wasn’t even dislike for him. It was fear. Fear, frustration, and lack of understanding rolled into one and confusing his moral compass. Confusing his heart. 

“What do you mean?” His couldn’t force his voice above a whisper. 

“‘Cause, I-I did the thing-”, Tony ground out, snapping messily. His voice was suddenly deathly quiet, his body trembling. “To kill that bastard and keep everyone else alive, but you…” He paused, looking away as he teared up. “You kept me alive. You could have died instead, but you risked that and…”, he looked at Stephen again, meeting his face with an intensely sad look, “-I’m still trynna wrap my head around that, Stephen.” Stephen’s mind was reeling, realizing that Tony must have been mulling on this in the back of his mind all along.

“I-.”

“Why’d you do it when you didn’t even know me?” Tony was still trembling with pain and anger, his eyes intensely sad, but challenging. Stephen hesitated again, paralyzed for fear of how his response may affect Tony.

“I-I can’t tell you.” _Shit_. He should have said that differently. 

“Fuck you and all your mysterious wizard shit! You don’t have any right to save my life and then not even tell me why! I didn’t know you, Stephen. We were complete strangers, right? I knew you for a day and then you went and almost died for me! Do you see how that might freak me out a little?!” Stephen took a deep breath, trying to suppress his own frustration. Frustration at not being able to just explain everything to him. 

“Can’t you just accept that I wanted to keep you alive if I could? Whether I knew you before that or not?”

“It doesn’t make sense”, Tony whispered coarsely, covering his eyes with his good hand, drawing it down his face slowly. “It does’t make any fucking sense. You doing that-. I’ve gone over it so many goddamned times, and it still doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m sorry. This is a situation no one else has ever had to deal with. There’s a lot of it that doesn’t make sense.”

“Stephen!”, Tony said desperately, almost pleading. “Stop with all the sage bullshit!” The frustrated fire was back in his eyes. “I know you’re not telling me everything and it’s exhausting. If we were actually friends, I’d think you’d at least trust me!”

“Tony, please-.”

“I can’t deal with this. I can’t lose someone else because they’re lying to me.” His tears came back to join the fire in the darkness of his one umber eye, meeting Stephen’s face for one moment of fiery grief before turning and leaving the room.

*****

Tony’s breath was knocked out of his lungs as he stumbled out onto the sidewalk, immediately gripped with cold as the winter wind slapped him in the face. He hadn’t called Happy and he certainly wasn’t waiting for him in the foyer. He just needed to walk right now.

It hurt too much to think about what had just happened, not yet ready to come to the realization that he had just lost Stephen. He’d lost him, by his own choosing, at least. He couldn’t wait until the sorcerer stabbed him in the back, as his paranoia insisted he might. That would hurt far more, though the little voice in the back of his mind insisted Stephen would never do that to him, would never turn on him, despite any rough spots they went through. But he had just ruined any chance of letting the sorcerer prove his loyalty, stumbling down the sidewalk as he was almost grateful for the returning ache in his arm to distract him from the pain in his chest. 

Nausea gripped his stomach as he found himself at a bus stop, hugging his shoulders while he watched the bus approach through a flurry of snowflakes. Tony climbed onto the bus wordlessly, managing to dig in his pocket for some change, and if the driver recognized him, he didn’t mention it. The seat directly behind the driver was free, but Tony elected to stand and hang on to the grab rail. Sitting felt wrong right now. He was delirious, vision swimming as he became feverish in the clammy semi warmth on the bus. Swaying on his feet, Tony tried to ignore the throbbing in his head, overwhelmed by the pain in his arm as he focused on the road ahead. It took him fifteen minutes to realize that the bus wasn’t heading to Queens as he had originally thought, instead going towards the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He groaned, pulling the cord to request a stop and stumbled out onto the sidewalk, back into the cold and the snow. He trudged down the pathway and stumbled a little, shivering hard enough that he had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. 

He knew he should just call Happy and go home with him to spend the night at Peter’s, but this knowledge was somewhere in his peripheral memory, buried under miles of pain and anger. He was angry at himself. He deserved to freeze in the late November snow, to walk through this windy night until he couldn’t feel his hands anymore, until he couldn’t feel the pain of his metal arm anymore. Maybe if he stayed out here long enough, the cold would reach his chest, and freeze the deep, jabbing pain that lived there permanently. Tony looked up, noticing he was surrounded by trees for the first time, lining the path he was walking on. There was a small body of water, he recognized The Pond to his left as he walked, a thin layer of ice covering the surface of the water and clinging heavily to the plants on its banks. 

Tony stopped, wind slowed by the tree cover as snowflakes fell in a flurry all around him. He sucked in a breath and the air was so cold in his lungs that he choked on it, sending a jolt of pain through the entire right side of his body. He was so sick of being in pain. So, so tired. A ragged sob left his chest and that hurt too. His tears felt cold as they ran down his numb cheeks, tilting his head up to try and decipher the snowflakes between the few stars visible through the clouds. 

He missed Stephen. He just wanted everything to be okay. 

Everything in him was numb, limbs slack as he realized that he didn’t feel so cold anymore.

He should call Happy. 

“Tony!”

Tony turned robotically, stiffly, hearing the vibrant crackling of a gateway before he saw it. There he was, appearing like some tall ghost in the cold and dark, amber sparks sputtering out behind the outline of his cloak. Suddenly Stephen was in front of him, and a tiny ember of Tony’s earlier anger ignited in his chest.

“The hell are you doing here?” Tony’s lips felt like plastic, his face stiff from the cold. His jaw was so tight he had forgotten that it was supposed to be able to open. He couldn’t focus on anything, vision swirling with the snow. There. His eyes remained fixed on the two, worried, blue-green eyes in front of him.

“I could ask you the same. Why don’t you have a coat?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Tony’s voice was slurred. “Doesn’t hurt.”

“Tony-.” Stephen tried to take hold of his arm gently, to gather him closer, but Tony pushed him away. 

“No. ’S fine. Just don’t want it to hurt anymore”, he muttered, barely audible. He dodged Stephen’s second attempt to grab his arm, to stop him from swaying. Tony left the path and headed towards the trees, slip-sliding over the fresh snow as he made his way down the gentle slope. He could hear Stephen’s boots crunching hurriedly in the snow behind him as the sorcerer tried to convince him to stop.

“Tony, please. I don’t know why you’re out here, but-.”

“Trying to get away from-.” What was he running from? Stephen? Technically, yes, but that’s not why he was stumbling around Central Park half frozen. His pain? He needed it to stop, by any means possible. He needed relief. He needed Stephen. He stopped, letting the sorcerer catch up with him, turning to face him. The warmth in his chest from being near him was finally registered by his numb brain, a small wave of relief beginning to trickle down throughout his spasming ribcage. “I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with this pain. I can’t deal with you - losing you…” He met Stephen’s face with delirious desperation. “Don’t do this to me, please. Not you.” 

“I’m never going to hurt you.” Something in the sorcerer softened, his shoulders slackening. “Please, let me show you that you can trust me.” He took his cloak off, stepping closer to Tony and wrapping it around his shoulders tightly. Stephen had worn a coat underneath Levi, so Tony didn’t feel quite so guilty as they stood under the bare trees in the dark and cold. The cloak was heavy, too long for him, and would have been dragging on the ground if it weren’t wrapped around his legs and upper body tightly, the fabric soft against the ice cold skin of his neck. He could feel the warning spell wash over him as Stephen made a quick, gold-flickering movement with one hand, relief shuddering through his tense muscles, almost sagging against the sorcerer’s front as his legs nearly gave out on him. But Levi pulled him up and kept him standing, though unsteadily.

“How’d you know where I was?”, Tony wheezed out, some semblance of a sane thought process returning as his body warmed. He couldn’t ignore the satin-smooth relief nestled in his chest, taking another step towards Stephen in subconscious gratitude. 

“I didn’t really”, Stephen admitted. “I just felt you were in distress, and kind of…felt where you were. It doesn’t make sense, but I found you.” Tony laughed bitterly despite himself. 

“That’s, uh, that’s something. You realize how weird that is, right?” The sorcerer didn’t let himself feel hurt at the question. It was Tony’s last futile attempt at keeping his armour together, Stephen knew. His defences were disintegrating as quickly as he tried to keep them up, and it was terrifying him. Stephen would help him let them down as gently as possible, but it wouldn’t be painless.

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. No one else in the history of the universe has ever had this type of bond before, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.” 

Tony face was overcome with rejection and grief. He scrabbled for the last scraps of an argument that would fill the hole created by the desperation he felt; the desperation to justify his dependence on Stephen, in a way that didn’t completely destroy his moral framework. He was a man of science. His mind liked the numbers, and the provable hypotheses, and the metal, and the things he could hold and understand. Now a physical part of him was infiltrated with a magic he couldn’t wrap his head around. And it was terrifying. His dependence on Stephen meant he was vulnerable, and his vulnerability meant that he could get hurt. He’d been betrayed so many times before, his brain didn’t offer any other options. His reaction to this helplessness was to lash out, make sure he hurt Stephen before Stephen had the chance to hurt him, no matter how much he actually cared for the sorcerer. 

The fear took over. And Stephen understood. 

“It’s okay that we need each other”, Stephen croaked out, trying to hold his composure for Tony’s sake. “I need you too. And I’ll never hurt you, Tony. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to not be in pain.” The last link in his armour snapped and Tony pulled back, lashing out once more, like a great, proud creature mortally wounded in too many battles. Battle after battle, with little to no support. He was bleeding, he was worn out, the fire was dying in his tired eyes, with barely enough energy for one last roar of defiance. 

“For fuck’s sake, Stephen! I didn’t deserve you giving up half your soul for me!” He cowered in on himself, exhausted, gripping Levi around his shoulders tightly. His breath was haggard, his legs unsteady. Stephen’s heart was beginning to fracture at the sight.

“Yes, you did”, he whispered, taking a careful step towards Tony. The other man, cloaked in red as his eyes glistened with tears, shook his head. He took a step back, but Stephen carefully matched it. “You did deserve it. You still do. I wish you could see that.” Tony just shook his head again, but stayed where he was, glaring at Stephen and daring him to come closer.

“No”, he whispered bitterly. His body language was defensive, but Stephen saw the desperate fear in his eyes. He could break Stephen’s heart right in two sometimes.

“I don’t regret it, Tony. I never have, not even for a second.”

“You should”, he sobbed, crumbling. “You should regret it.” Stephen took another step forward, extending his arms subconsciously.

“No. Never”, he assured, gathering Tony in his arms as he broke. He bodily held him up, wrapped tightly in his arms as Tony fell against his front, fractured, dissolving, falling apart into so many different pieces of a human while Stephen desperately tried to gather him back together.

“I don’t believe you”, Tony choked out between sobs, forehead pressed against the sorcerer’s collarbone. Stephen adjusted his grip, wrapping both sides of his coat around Tony as Levi continued to cocoon him. The two halves of their life force hadn’t been this close to each other since they were Stephen’s alone, and the comfort provided by the closeness was indescribable. 

“That’s okay”, Stephen whispered. “You will. I’m not going anywhere until you do.” A gut-wrenching sob shook Tony’s entire frame at his words, and he pressed into the sorcerer’s embrace even more, letting out all his tension and pain in tears which wracked his whole body.

“I’m so sorry, Steph”, he sobbed, barely audible with his face against Stephen’s chest. He finally allowed himself to wrap both arms around the sorcerer’s middle, ignoring the stabbing ache of protest from his cybernetic arm. “You shouldn’t have to deal with my bullshit”, he muttered wetly, pressing his face into the taller man’s sweater. Stephen’s only response was to hold him tighter, one gloved hand drifting up to cup the back of his head as he rested his chin on snow-damp, greying hair. Snow fell around them in lazy flurries, blanketing the park in a thick quiet that settled over them both in something akin to peace. Stephen’s only though was that, of all the universes in which he could exist, how lucky he was to be in this one. 

“I can only hope that you’ll let me.”


	12. Clouds Gather While We're Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony invites Stephen to spend Christmas day at the Stark cabin, an arrangement which some people are happier about than others. Stephen's Christmas gift to Tony holds more significance than they both realize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last one-shot fic I posted absolutely flopped, so I'd appreciate some nice comments on this chapter, please and thanks! <3<3<3 (I'm so sorry this chapter took forever, I had midterms...)
> 
> Iron fam Christmas? Did anyone ask for Iron fam Christmas? This is a long ass chapter and it’s mostly fluff. I have no shame. There’s a lot of Stephen and Morgan interacting which, tbh? gives me life. Actually, it’s all Stephen interacting with the people Tony loves, which is what we’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?
> 
> Look up RDJ singing "White Christmas" if you wanna swoon...
> 
> The title of this chapter should be “Stephen Strange Is The Least Emotionally-Perceptive Person You Have Ever Met In Your Life”.
> 
> Oh, yeah, Harley makes his first appearance! He is such a chaotic gremlin. What a little shit. I love him so much.  
The snow storm growing through out the chapter is symbolic of all the shit that's going to go down in the next chapter, just fyi. Also, it sucks when the layout for the cabin in my head doesn’t even remotely match the set used in the movie…
> 
> WATCH SYMBOLISM

Things were…different after that night in Central Park, to say the very least.

Tony agreed to seeing his therapist twice a week, for one. His mental state had been crumbling under a smooth surface long before his argument with Stephen on that night, hiding away his broken insides under empty smiles like he had for most of his life. Three weeks without the sorcerer had left him in a bad place physically, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil he’d spiralled into when he had believed that Stephen resented him. Tony’s sense of self-worth had never been his strong suit, but believing he’d been abandoned by someone he considered one of his closest friends was a breaking point - it reminded him too much of past betrayals. 

Those three weeks of miscommunication had created a fracture in their relationship, and Tony was reluctant to admit it, even to himself, but it was going to take a decent amount of time to close that rift again. This fact made it even more surprising when he found himself inviting Stephen over to spend Christmas day at the cabin.

“You should come over for Christmas”, he had heard himself saying when he and Stephen had met up for coffee in the city, about two weeks before Christmas. “It’ll be fun. Rhodey, Hap, and the Parkers will be over too for late lunch, presents, and then dinner. What do you say?” Those galaxy-colored eyes met Tony with the same surprise he was feeling. It was like his brain was trying to remind him that he’d almost been betrayed, while his heart screamed for the familiarity it missed. Stephen had been hesitant and Tony knew why, but ignored it. 

“I…I really don’t think that’s a good idea, honestly.” 

“Please?”, Tony had found himself practically begging, feeling his eyes involuntarily widen as he looked up at the taller man. “Pepper’s had a change of heart, okay? I talked with her, it’s all good.” The sorcerer had remained pensive, staring into his mug until Tony pulled him over the edge. “Morgan’ll miss you if you’re not there.” Stephen met his eyes and they both knew what he really meant. Tony would miss him. But Tony couldn’t say that yet.

“Yeah, if you’re sure. I’d love that.”

The truth was, Pepper’s change of heart had been directly linked to that fateful night of Tony walking around New York in a snowstorm, his only thought of stopping his pain. It took a long and honest conversation about Tony’s mental state, sitting in the living room together one night, but Pepper had finally relented in exhaustion. After Tony’s almost suicidal behaviour in Central Park, she was willing to put up with Stephen’s presence, if only so Tony wasn’t in so much pain that his brain was subconsciously in a self-destructive state. Tony, of course, had tried to hide his relief as she finally succumbed to the decision, seeming to understand how miserable he was without the sorcerer’s healing life force. He hadn’t hidden his gratitude, though, kissing her for what felt like the first time in months. Pepper had given him a smile when he pulled back, but he noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes as she stood with the excuse that she better go check on Morgan, who had been asleep for hours. Tony had sat back on the sofa and watched her go, trying to keep his left hand from shaking. 

*****

Stephen was startled out of his reading trance suddenly as a pair of gloves were dropped on the page he was peering over. He had been in his study for most of the day, without any sign of his friend, so was surprised when he looked up to see Wong standing over him, expression casual with no means of explanation.

“What are these?”, Stephen tried, arching a brow at the other sorcerer. Wong frowned, catching himself just short of rolling his eyes. 

“Gloves.” Stephen sighed patiently.

“I can see that. But why are you throwing them at me?”

“I missed your birthday, so I'm giving these to you now. I picked them up last time I was at Kamar Taj.” Stephen blinked, leaning forward to pick the gloves up. They were made of thick wool, a dark blue with a single red stripe running horizontally across the fingers.

“My birthday?”, Stephen asked, looking up again to catch another exasperated look cast in his direction. “That was weeks ago, you should have just waited till Christmas.”

“Well, then it wouldn’t be a birthday gift”, Wong insisted stubbornly. “And what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t get you a birthday gift?” It was the first time Wong had verbally admitted that he even liked Stephen, who had a hard time fighting a smile as he met his friend’s eyes.

“Thank you.” He looked back down at the gloves in his trembling grip, running a thumb over them softly. “They’re really nice.”

“They’re yak wool”, Wong offered simply, nodding once before turning and walking out of the study without another word. Stephen smiled to himself as he watched his friend go. Wong had a weird way of expressing his friendship, but never was there a man so loyal and genuine. He was also the first person to put any effort into celebrating Stephen’s birthday for many years, a task that the sorcerer had given up on himself. November 18th had come and gone a few weeks ago and he hadn’t given it a second thought. Due to the triviality of the whole practice, Stephen didn’t see any point in celebrating the passing of another year that he was on Earth. Sure, his vanity would rear its ugly head once in a while and he would fuss over the grey at his temples, but his physical age wasn’t something that he gave much thought to. His mental age, on the other hand, was something he had spent a little more energy on. Trying to determine it, that is. He’d spent several hours since his fight with Dormammu, trying to figure how long he’d spent fighting the dark entity, and then spent twice as long trying to forget the figure of five years that he came up with. He refused to even think about how much time had passed while going through over 14,000,000 alternate timelines on Titan. 

Stephen was pulled out of his thoughts as his phone rang, making him jump slightly despite himself. The only person who ever called him was Tony. He slid the green phone icon across the screen and put the phone to his ear. 

“Go for Strange”, he said, making Tony snort. 

“You need a better greeting”, Tony informed him. “Not only is it lacking panache, you sound like a 1950’s detective.”

“In what way is that detective-like?”, Stephen countered, glad the other man couldn’t see the grin spreading across his face. 

“Okay, you got me there. I was just calling to make sure you aren’t bringing anything with you on Thursday. Pepper and May are making enough food to feed an army.”

“I can’t come with nothing, Tony. What do you take me for, a troglodyte?”

“If I knew what that was, I’m guessing I’d say no. But honestly, even with Peter coming over, we’re going to have leftovers, Strange.”

“So, what can I bring, then?”

“Just your pretty self”, Tony said smoothly, and Stephen was even more grateful that the other man couldn’t see the way his cheeks were brushed with pink. “And some booze if you want, but Rhodey will mostly have that handled.”

“Is alcohol even allowed in your house?”, Stephen asked, regaining some of his composure. 

“Yes, of course. Just ‘cause I don’t drink…doesn’t mean other people have to be deprived when they come over. What do you take me for, Strange, a troglodyte?”

“Oh, so you know what it means now?”

“Of course. Also I looked it up right after you said it.” Stephen laughed, trying to control the amount of audible affection in his sigh as he let out a huff of air.

“Alright, I’ll make sure I bring something that isn’t food or alcohol.”

“Good, good. Morgan’s looking forward to seeing you again”, Tony said, and Stephen could sense he was stalling a little now that his purpose for calling had been fulfilled. “You free this afternoon? I know we just saw each other, but…” He trailed off and Stephen felt his heart jump a little in worry. 

“Why? Are you in pain again already?” He swore he could feel Tony fidgeting uncomfortably on the other side of the phone. 

“No. Nah, just antsy.” A pause. “I really want Christmas to go well.” There was another beat of silence before Stephen answered.

“You’re really starting to sound like a stay-at-home mom, you know?”

“You know what I mean, Steph”, Tony sighed. 

“I know. And I have a feeling everything will be just fine. But as much as I’d like to meet up, I’m kind of busy today. Wong and I always spend the solstice together.” Stephen could practically feel the disappointment Tony was radiating, but the man hid it well.

“Cool, all good. You already have plans, of course. See you Thursday, then? Around noon?” Stephen’s heart warmed a little, almost flattered by Tony’s reluctance to hang up.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you all then.”

“Okay, good. Bye, Steph.”

“Goodbye, Tony.” 

Stephen didn’t realize how his heart was thudding pleasantly in his chest until he hung up. The warm feeling was spreading through him, like a sip of hot chocolate which seemed to trickle along his ribs, warming up his entire chest cavity. Standing, he traipsed down the stairs, Levi trailing after him dutifully. His reason for declining Tony’s offer to meet up had only been a partial lie. It _was_ the solstice, and he and Wong _were_ spending the day together, but not to partake in their usual subdued version of winter solstice celebration. Instead, they were working on a project that Stephen had been planning for months, inspired by his and Tony’s three week bout of misunderstanding, and the unfortunate physical pain which had come along with it. 

Stephen reached the bottom of the stairs, patting Levi’s collar affectionately as they settled on his shoulders. He turned and went through a door to the right of the foyer, not surprised to find Wong at the wood workbench, pouring over an old book. The senior sorcerer looked up upon his entry and raised a brow in understanding as Stephen took a small box off one of the shelves, ornately carved and held delicately in large, shaking hands.

“Hey, Wong, do you mind if we finish Tony’s present?”

*****

On Christmas day, a little past noon, Stephen faced the front door of the Stark cabin for the first time in nearly two months. His boots weighed heavy on his feet as he stood in the deep snow, the last sparking remnants of a gateway still dissolving in the air behind him. The metal tin in his hands shook with his tremors and the cold as he regarded the house silently. Levi hung on his shoulders and grounded him to the spot, thick snowflakes drifting down to land in his hair and on the red fabric as he battled the front door in a staring contest.

The last time he had been here to see Tony, a misplaced word from Rhodey and an agitated Pepper had resulted in his and Tony’s misunderstanding. The misunderstanding that led to three weeks apart, their argument in the Sanctum, and Tony wandering around in a blizzard like he’d lost all his will to live. Stephen swallowed heavily as the dread firmly cemented itself in his chest. He would do anything to keep something like that from happening again, for both Tony’s sake and his, because Stephen knew he wouldn’t be able to handle losing Tony like that a second time, even if only for a few weeks. He also realized that there were certain things out of his control, things that didn’t take kindly to his intrusion into the Stark household, things that wouldn’t or couldn’t understand how he and Tony had come to depend on one another. Things being Pepper. 

Taking in a deep breath of icy air, Stephen climbed the steps slowly, reaching the door and pausing. He’d never had to knock on this door before. Tony was always on the other side, pulling it open seconds before the sorcerer reached it. Stephen wondered if it was coincidence, or excitement, or consideration for his hands on Tony’s part, but what ever the reason, it felt weird not to have it. Stephen paused for another reason. Maybe this was a huge mistake. No, this was almost certainly a massive mistake, and he was about to walk willingly into a situation which may tear apart the most precious part of his life. He didn’t have time to consider turning around and leaving, as Levi abruptly wrapped a corner of themselves around Stephen’s wrist and lifted his knuckles to the door, rapping on the hardwood just loud enough to be heard without hurting his hand. 

“You bastard”, Stephen muttered, exasperated but relieved. 

He heard muffled voices from inside the house and the door was pulled open. Unfamiliar blue eyes regarded him through the screen door before that was opened too and a teenager - no, young man - about Stephen’s height met him with a perplexed look. 

“Hi”, the teen said, eyeing Levi’s friendly wave warily, though with less fear than most people did upon first meeting the cloak. Stephen nodded a thanks as he was let in, still thrown off by the unexpected stranger, as the teen - young adult? - seemed to be as well. Stephen wondered about neither of them being warned about the other as he stepped inside, his senses immediately engulfed in scents of food and warmth. 

“So, who the hell are you, anyway?”, the kid - yeah, he could still be considered a kid - asked, and Stephen immediately noticed a twinge of Tennessee in the stranger’s voice. And it clicked.

“You’re Harley, I take it?”, Stephen asked, ignoring the kid’s question as he subtly drew himself up to his full height, though he only had the kid by an inch. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by a snarky child with peach fuzz on his chin. But Harley didn’t back down, meeting him with intense blue eyes and a defensive stance.

“You’re the wizard, I take it”, he said more than asked. The kid’s gaze was as lazy as his stance, half slouched to the side as he eyed Stephen’s appearance critically. 

“Sorcerer”, Stephen corrected quickly, changing tactics. “Tony’s told me a lot about you. How you helped him years ago.” Harley took a page from Stephen’s book and ignored the comment.

“He doesn’t shut up about you. He goes on about how you’re some big shot magician, saving different dimensions and shit.” Stephen had to keep his eye from twitching, starting to wonder where Tony was anyway.

“That’s not entirely inaccurate.” Somehow, Harley had been exactly what he had pictured, but Stephen was still thrown off. The kid was defensive, testing, jabbing, like he was trying to determine if Stephen was trustworthy. Or maybe just to see what his reaction would be. 

“What’s in the box?”, Harley asked, pointing at the metal tin Stephen was holding. Stephen had to admit he had trouble following the kid’s thought process, his attention pinging around like a pinball machine.

“Lapsi candy. I hope it’s not considered food since Tony told me not to bring any.” Harley waved a lazy hand.

“Oh, yeah, we’re gonna have tons of stuff for dinner.” He turned as if suddenly reminded of something, shouting down the hall. “Hey, Tony! Your wizard’s here!” Fortunately, Stephen was successful in hiding the flush of his cheeks. He was thankful Harley didn’t notice, as he wouldn’t put it past the kid to comment loudly on the sorcerer’s flustered blush. 

_Your wizard._ God, that was equal parts endearing and infuriating. Okay, mostly endearing. 

The frantic pattering of feet came from the back den at Harley’s call and Morgan came flying around the corner, eyes bright when she caught sight of Stephen.

“Doc!”, she shrieked in excitement. “You came!” Stephen’s heart jabbed with guilt. She probably felt like he’d all but abandoned her, especially in the past few months, but he pushed past it, a smile finding its way onto his face involuntarily. Stephen surprised himself by crouching as Morgan barrelled towards him, arms wide as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he scooped her up.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Miss Morgan”, he muttered into the shoulder of her pink sweater as they hugged, scarred, shaking hands almost steady on her back as he held her. He could feel Harley regarding them critically, but Stephen didn’t care and the young adult was distracted by his phone quickly. Morgan pulled back, little hands still on Stephen’s shoulders, and gave him a patented megawatt grin. 

“I missed you, Doc”, she said sweetly and Stephen swore he felt his heart melt a little. 

“I missed you, too. But we’re gonna have a lot of fun today, aren’t we?”

“Yeah!”, she cheered, quickly distracted as she pulled the bottom of her sweater down so he could see it better. “Look at my new sweater! I got it from Mommy for Christmas.”

“It’s very nice, darling.” He poked her tummy gently, making her giggle. “I like the cat. I bet your daddy does to.” 

Morgan nodded and, as if on cue, Tony appeared from the den, matching Stephen’s greeting grin and, _Oh, god._ Stephen had known how he felt about Tony since Titan, what with all their impossible futures, but it was in a split second of new clarity that Stephen realized he was in love. In _this_ reality. Stephen was overcome with a swell of affection before settling back into the familiar warmth, his pulse thudding in his ears as he stood and took in the sight of the man before him. Tony’s energy was loose and relaxed, evidently lost in the warmth of Stephen’s life force as well, an easy grin making the corners of his eyes crinkle a bit. He was wearing a chaotic combination of khaki corduroy pants with a navy cable knit under a plaid flannel, but he made it work somehow, and Stephen was dizzy with fond exasperation. 

“I see you met the Tennessee terror”, Tony greeted, jolting Stephen out of his reverie. The sorcerer nodded, looking over to where Harley was giving Tony the middle finger from the couch, quick to earn a scolding. “Hey, not in front of Morgan! Don’t mind him, he was raised by wolves.” He quickly switched gears, putting an arm around Stephen’s shoulders and drawing him into the kitchen. That was new, too. Since the night in Central Park, Tony had been more inclined to open displays of affection with the sorcerer as opposed to subtle little touches. Stephen wasn’t sure what it meant, especially in their current situation where Pepper had practically forbade them to see one another. 

Tony turned to the stove where several pots were simmering, pointing accusingly at the container Stephen was holding. “I told you not to bring anything, Doc.” 

“You told me not to bring food or alcohol. I brought neither, so you have nothing to complain about.” Tony scoffed, lifting the lid of the metal tin he took from Stephen, raising an eyebrow in uncertainty. “Lapsi candy”, Stephen explained. “The first batch Wong and I made turned out hard as a rock, so you should feel lucky we had enough fruit to try it twice.”

“Fruit?”, Tony asked, and Stephen could see he was teasing.

“It’s from Nepal”, Stephen explained, snatching the tin back with a grin. “We have it all the time at Kamar Taj, so I thought you guys might enjoy it as well.” Tony’s returned grin was like sparkling sunshine as he stirred one of the bubbling pots on the stove, and Stephen was relived to see him using his cybernetic arm without any visible pain. 

“I’m yanking your chain, Doc. You just missed Pepper, by the way.” Stephen wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that. “She went into town to grab some stuff for lunch. May, Hap, and Peter are still driving up from the city, they should be here any minute”, Tony explained and Stephen’s interest piqued.

“I take it May and Happy are officially a thing now?” 

“Yep. Moved in together and everything. Pete’s all out of sorts about it”, Tony chuckled.

“And Rhodey?”, Stephen asked, noticing the colonel’s absence acutely. He hoped to remediate any awkwardness between them after what had happened last time they spoke, and more than anything he hoped for the man’s approval, though he would never admit it. 

“Shower”, Tony said, pointing towards the ceiling to indicate the guest bathroom upstairs. “He spent the night, did the whole present spiel with Morgan this morning. I’m proud to say my daughter is growing up thinking that Santa’s black.” His smile fell slightly as he sobered, catching Stephen’s eye. “You better not have brought any presents, Doc.” With a sudden surge of confidence, Stephen stepped closer to Tony, holding him under his gaze.

“And if I did?”, he rumbled, his voice laced with the challenge behind his words. He enjoyed watching Tony’s smooth cockiness falter, though only for a second, before the other man elbowed him in the side playfully. 

“Then we’ll just have to get _you_ in the Santa costume.” 

“Yeah, that’s not happening”, Stephen laughed, though his heart was pounding in his chest as he took a step back, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Can I do anything? I feel useless just standing here.” 

“No, no, don’t worry. Everything’s all prepped”, he assured, waving a spoon at Stephen. “I’m just keeping everything warm until everyone gets here. Besides, you’ll have plenty to help out with for dinner.”

“Good”, Stephen said, allowing for a beat of silence as he crossed his arms, and made the decision to address the elephant in the room. “So…did you and Pepper figure everything out, or…am I still walking on ice here?” He saw that his sudden question gave Tony pause, stirring stopped as he turned to meet the sorcerer’s eyes. He fidgeted with himself, holding his left wrist almost reflexively and Stephen felt guilty for bringing it up so bluntly. 

“Uh, no. There’s no ice, but I wouldn’t say we figured everything out, if I’m being honest.”

“But she understands that you can’t handle the pain on your own, right?”, Stephen pressed, the familiar desperation pressing down on his windpipe. “I mean, that night…when we were in Central Park…and everything that happened before that…”

“I know, Stephen”, Tony assured, suddenly looking a little older and a lot more tired. He drew himself up with a sigh, trying to look more positive. “We, uh…talked, and there’s a lot of stuff we need to figure out, but don’t worry about it. You’re good.” His soft smile was enough to disarm Stephen completely. 

Stephen was about to respond, something along the lines of, ‘Thank the Vishanti, because I was so scared I was going to lose you completely’, but the front door opening cut him off. A flurry of flakes came in a gust of wind from the oncoming blizzard as Pepper struggled in the door, armed with several bags of groceries.

“Here, let me”, Stephen offered as he took the bags from her stunned hands. He propped the door open for her with an elbow, trying to ignore the guarded look in her eyes. “It’s nice to see you, Pepper. How are you?” The door was closed and Pepper faked her best smile as she unwrapped her scarf.

“Pretty good except for all this snow. How about you, Stephen?” God, she was a good actress. Well, Stephen could be as well. 

“Grateful not to be spending Christmas alone in that creaky, old Sanctum.” And this wasn’t a lie. He and Wong had never celebrated Christmas before the Snap, and Stephen had spent many a snowy evening huddled alone in his study, content with the company of his books. It was only this year, after Stephen came back from the dead, that Wong had insisted they exchange gifts at the very least. Stephen could see Pepper was disarmed by his response, the genuine gratitude in his voice making her stance soften a little. 

“Well, we’re glad to have you. Alone definitely isn’t any way to spend Christmas, right, Tony?” She looked over at her husband who had been dutifully stirring a pot of soup, though he kept a wary eye on their conversation, like someone preparing to break up a fight between two strange cats. 

“Of course not”, Tony agreed quickly, casting Stephen a glance that the sorcerer couldn’t quite catch the meaning of. “And the more the merrier. I mean, you made enough of this soup to feed an army, Pep.” Pepper sighed and swatted his arm as she leaned over to make sure he wasn’t burning the soup somehow.

“I wanted to make sure we have enough for Peter. I don’t want him to feel bad if he wants seconds.”

“Or thirds”, Tony smiled, his fondness for the kid radiating from him like the sun. “He’ll appreciate it, Pep. Thanks.” Tony’s head jerked up as he spotted a car coming up the front drive through the window. “Speak of the devil.”

As Tony went to open the front door for Happy and the Parkers, Stephen tried to genuinely get on Pepper’s good side. He knew there had been a turning point in the past year, where Pepper went from liking him to outright finding him unbearable and, for Tony’s sake, he was willing to remedy that. 

“Can I help unpack some of these?”, he said, gesturing to the grocery bags on the kitchen table. Pepper turned to look at him, critical blue eyes flickering over his face, trying to determine if he was being genuine or if this was some sort of trick. She seemed to settle on the former. 

“That would be great”, she replied, granting him a small smile. “It looks like I bought out the entire store, but I figured it would be better to go for one big run now. I don’t want to leave the house for the next few days, especially not in this snow.”

“Sounds like a smart idea”, Stephen agreed, pulling a box of crackers out of one of the bags. “It’s supposed to storm for the rest of the week.”

“Actually”, Pepper said, pointing at the box of crackers in his hand. “Do you think you could get some cheese and crackers together, to go with the soup? There’s a platter above the fridge.” Stephen obliged with a nod, grateful that she was at least accepting his offer to help. The front door swung open and the front hall was suddenly full of bustling activity as Tony came back in with Happy, May, and Peter, added to by Morgan when she came flying from the back den where she had been playing with some of her new toys.

“Petey!”, she yelled, barreling towards him as fast as socked feet on hardwood floors would allow. 

“Mongoose!”, Peter said with almost as much enthusiasm, scooping the little girl up as she collided into him, with enough force that Stephen wondered if he would have been knocked flat if not for his enhanced strength. 

“Stop calling my child that!”, Tony complained teasingly. “She already thinks she’s an alpaca, you’re going to give her an identity crisis.”

“And who’s fault is it that she thinks she’s an alpaca?”, Pepper asked with a raised brow as she came and gave May a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tony just beamed at the accusation, taking Happy’s coat from him as they shared a quip that the sorcerer couldn’t hear. Stephen smiled quietly to himself, seeing Tony revelling in the presence of his family, warm and glowing with love for these people.

“Hi, Doctor Strange”, Peter greeted as he came into the kitchen, ducking away from Tony’s hair ruffle as the man took his coat to be hung up.

“Hey, Peter”, Stephen said, not able to help the way his voice softened. It was hard not to feel his heart strings stirring when he couldn’t forget the millions of possibilities where Peter had called him ‘Dad’. “I keep telling you, Stephen is okay.”

“You’re never gonna sway him, Doc”, Tony said as he raced to the bottom of the stairs before yelling up them. “Hey, platypus! Are you done doing your hair and makeup yet? The party just got here!” 

“No!”, came the reply from the top of the stairs, and Rhodey came down with surprising ease despite his braces. He reached the bottom step and held his arms wide. “Now the party’s here.”

“Are we ready for lunch?”, Pepper called to address everyone in the room. “That pot of soup has been on the stove almost all morning and it’s a miracle Tony hasn’t burnt it yet.”

“Hey!”, Tony yelped at the accusation. “I am a very good stirrer.” He returned to his post at the stove, turning the burner down for good measure as Pepper and May grabbed some bowls.

“Get out of here, you”, Happy said, trying to intercept a ladle from Tony’s shaky cybernetic hand. “You’re useless in the kitchen in the first place. No offence, but I don’t think the arm is going to be an improvement.” Tony gasped and the two started bickering. Stephen heard a laugh from near his shoulder and turned to see that Rhodey had come to join him in putting together the cheese plate.

“Those two will be going at it for the rest of the day, I hope you know that”, Rhodey said with an affectionate eye roll. “It’s been a while, Stephen. We gotta stop letting so much time pass in between seeing each other.” He gave Stephen’s shoulder a friendly squeeze before going back to cutting slices of gouda. 

“Yeah, of course. The past few months have been a little…difficult”, Stephen admitted, catching the colonel’s eye. “I’m sure Tony told you about why he and I had our…misunderstanding?”

“Yeah, he did. I’m really sorry about all that, man”, Rhodey replied, a flicker of remorse showing through in his eyes. “I swear, I didn’t mean to say anything that gave you the wrong idea. Tony thinks you’re the best.” A sudden peal of laughter made Stephen look up to see Tony bent over in hysterics at something Happy had said, the sorcerer’s expression softening involuntarily to see him so happy. He looked back at Rhodey, only to see the man giving him a knowing eyebrow raise. 

“I - yeah, I know”, Stephen replied, trying to regain his composure. “I know you didn’t mean ill, I just read too much into it.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now. Whatever those two need to figure out -”, he said, gesturing between Pepper and Tony, “I’m just hoping it doesn’t affect what you and Tony have.”

“Right”, Stephen said, swallowing tightly as Rhodey gave his shoulder another reassuring squeeze and took the finished platter to the table. Stephen was thrown off by the colonel’s amiability (why was Steve Rogers so afraid of him again?), as he had been almost certain that Tony’s best friend would have met him with contempt in the aftermath of their three week hiatus. But, instead, he’d been welcomed with open arms by the most influential man in Tony’s life and he was beyond relieved.

*****

Lunch went by without any major mishaps (Peter accidentally stuck his elbow in part of the cheese platter and Harley christened the rest of the cheese as ‘elbow cheese’) or any awkwardness, which Stephen was grateful for. He was decidedly the outsider in this gathering, and Harley’s presence was no consolation as the boy seemed to adapt to any environment with all the anxiety of a wise-cracking parrot. Stephen could see why he and Tony got along. 

It might have also been fortunate for Tony and Stephen to be seated at opposite ends of the table, until Rhodey was telling a funny story and the sorcerer looked up to find Tony beaming at him from across the table. Stephen tried his best to focus on the rest of the tables’ conversations, grateful to be seated beside Peter who seemed to be as perplexed by Harley as the sorcerer was. 

After their late lunch, Morgan insisted that they go out to build snowmen in the still falling snow, assuring Stephen that he needed to come even if he couldn’t roll snowballs because of his hands. Seeing as it was already 2 pm, Pepper elected to stay behind and start prepping vegetables for dinner, though Tony tried to convince her that it wouldn’t hurt to have dinner an hour later than planned. This resulted in a quiet argument in the kitchen which no one but Stephen heard as everyone was getting dressed to go outside. Tony left the kitchen and ran into Stephen in the hall, giving him a look that broke the sorcerer’s heart.

“Our compromise is Happy’s gonna stay and help her. She doesn’t want me to”, he relayed, a haunted look overtaking his eyes. Stephen watched him walk back down the hall to help Morgan with her snow boots, guilt overtaking his chest. What were the odds Pepper was staying in the house to avoid him? Maybe coming here was a bad idea after all. 

*****

After nearly two hours of a snowmen building competition (which May and Morgan definitely won) and an impromptu snowball fight (the winner of which was debatable, though the kids insisted they’d beat the adults soundly), the group returned to the cabin to be met with a cacophony of heavily smells from the kitchen. Vegetables had been chopped, the turkey was beginning to cook in the oven, and the scent of cocoa and cinnamon wafted through the warm air. 

“I’ve got some hot chocolate and homemade apple cinnamon tea going”, Happy announced somewhat proudly after everyone had changed out of their damp snow clothes. Most everyone opted for hot chocolate, save for Stephen and May, though Happy insisted that Tony and the kids at least try the tea.

“It’s kinda like…fruity dishwater”, Harley supplied after taking a sip, while Peter nodded in agreement, though guiltily as Happy frowned at them. “Are you sure you made it right?”

“Of course I did! Not like any of you would know what tea’s supposed to taste like, anyway.”

“No offence, Hap”, Tony said, getting his friend back for his earlier comment about Tony’s cybernetic arm not helping his cooking abilities. “But maybe stick to the hot chocolate from now on.”

“It’s really good, actually” Stephen assured, earning a grateful grin from Happy. “Their tastebuds have just been destroyed by too much black coffee.” 

“Hey!”, Tony scolded playfully. “Watch it, wizard.” He gave Stephen a wink and then addressed the rest of the kitchen. “Do we wanna do presents now? That way we can watch a movie after dinner?” Everyone sounded their approval, especially Morgan. 

“I’ll go grab ours from the car”, May said, sharing a secret, excited look with Morgan. Pepper went to do the same while Rhodey went out to his car as well, leaving the other three men in the kitchen. Tony and Happy bickered about the tea for a little longer while Stephen leaned back against the counter with his tea, contentment warming him from head to toe. It was nice to feel like a part of a family again, as much as he could while trying to pretend Pepper didn’t hate his guts, anyway. 

Everyone came back in, armed with colourful, bow-tied bags and boxes and deposited them in the living room, the kids clamouring excitedly around the tree. Tony had explained to Stephen their tradition of the past five years of spending Christmas morning with their individual families, before coming together and sharing their presents for each other before or after Christmas dinner. It was a sweet, slightly unconventional idea that Stephen had been looking forward to ever since Tony told him about it. It would make gift-giving significantly less awkward and more appropriate for him to join in, anyway. 

Just then, Pepper returned from the living room and came into the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Stephen as she addressed Tony and Happy. 

“I’m going to put some cookies out while we open presents”, she explained. “Oh, and Happy? Morgan wanted you to go in and help her arrange the presents under the tree. She claims that you’re very good at it.”

“What am I, chop liver?”, Tony asked, aghast, but only Happy returned his joking grin as he left to go help Morgan. As soon as he left, Stephen saw his chance, heart pounding in his throat as he sidled up to Tony and Pepper, clearing his throat gently to get their attention. 

"Hey, um, I was wondering if I could ask you two something?” Tony turned from arranging the cookies on a plate, something akin to fear in his eyes as he met the sorcerer’s face, quickly hiding it when Pepper turned too.

“Of course, Doc. What’s up?” Tony’s voice was hushed and careful, though he was trying to sound upbeat and casual and everything inside Stephen was screaming to abort mission. 

“It’s nothing serious”, Stephen assured, then faltered. “Well, um, it might be depending on… Um, it’s to do with gifts.” He gestured towards the living room, cursing himself for being so awkward. “See, I made this gift for Morgan and I wanted to get your approval before I gave it to her.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Stephen”, Pepper said sweetly, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Yeah, that’s really nice of you, Doc. What is it?”, Tony asked, and a gentle look had overtaken the apprehension in his eyes. It was obvious he’d been fearful that Stephen was going to ask if Pepper was really okay with him being there, and she would have been more than happy to give her honest answer. 

“It’s a, uh, protection charm of sorts. I figured, well, with you two being who you are as her parents, there may be certain situations in the future where an extra level of protection may be necessary.” Stephen’s heart froze a little as Pepper’s expression darkened by the second. “There, uh, there aren’t any negative side effects to wearing it, but you could keep it from her until you think she needs it, if you-.”

“She won’t need it”, Pepper said forcefully. “But it’s a nice thought, Stephen.” Stephen decided he didn’t like the way his name sounded in her mouth, like she was spitting out a piece of dirt. 

“It’s just like a necklace, really”, Stephen explained gently, wondering why he couldn’t just shut up. “It’s a little silver pendant on a chain. Uh, I engraved a star on the pendant.” He looked at Tony and couldn’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You told me how she’s already interested in astronomy.” Tony smiled, and was about to respond when Pepper interjected.

“Our daughter will not be needing any of your magic to protect her”, she bit out. “I know you say you’re all powerful as Sorcerer Supreme, but certainly not since the battle, hmm?” Stephen’s heart cried out a little at the low blow, deciding not to remind her how his magic had saved her husband’s life. “And you’ve seen first hand what Tony’s suits can do, on multiple occasions.” She took a step closer and Stephen couldn’t help but tense up as she got in his personal space. He could see she wanted to yell at him, but didn’t want to alert any of her guests to the situation. “You really think our daughter needs your protection when she has us and those two suits in the garage to protect her, not to mention Rhodey?” She stepped back a little, gesturing for Tony to go into the living room. Stephen saw him hesitate before he went, throwing the sorcerer a look which Stephen couldn’t quite decipher as Pepper stared him down.

“Besides” Pepper added before she followed her husband. “What ever puts her in the danger, now or in the future, will not be any concern of yours.” She turned away with a furious flick of her blonde ponytail and Stephen could only watch her go, horror settling into his chest as tears prickled his eyes. What the hell had he just done?

*****

No one noticed when Stephen slunk into the living room, as apparently Pepper had given everyone the go ahead to start exchanging gifts. He settled on the end of the sofa farthest from Pepper, who was seated as close to Tony as she possibly could, and tried to keep from dropping his tea, shaking hands wrapped around the mug. He swallowed his anxiety, trying to get lost in the hum of conversation around the room, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Pepper and Tony. He wanted to catch Tony’s eye, for reassurance if nothing else, but decided against it. He could practically feel the anger still rolling off Pepper in waves, though she watched her daughter unwrapping a gift from Peter with a gentle smile. Everyone laughed when Morgan pulled the wrapping paper apart to reveal a Spider Man plushie, and Stephen allowed himself to smile, wishing desperately that he could infiltrate comfortably back into the group. He looked around the room and felt content besides the major setback of his misplaced gift to Morgan; these were such good people, all so important to Tony, and he wanted nothing more than to be accepted by them. 

“Who’s this one for, Mo?”, Peter asked from his spot on the floor beside the pile of presents. He was helping Morgan read off gift tags and hand the presents out to their recipients, a job always allotted to the youngest (and second youngest) of the family. Morgan scurried over, Spider Man plushie already hugged securely to her chest, and crawled onto Peter’s lap so they could read the name tag together. Stephen realized with a sinking heart that he hadn’t been around to see how close the two kids had gotten lately, looking up as Morgan sounded out the name on the gift tag. 

“Step-hen?” She frowned up at Peter and looked around the room at all the familiar faces. “Who’s that?” Peter laughed a little, along with everyone else in the room besides Pepper. 

“That’s Doc’s name, Mo. I know, the spelling is a little weird.”

“Hey”, Stephen said, feigning offence as Morgan grabbed the gift and ran over to him with it. “It’s not weird, it’s strange”, he grinned, some of his tension dissolving as the terrible pun elicited a snort from Tony. “Who’s it from, Miss Morgan?”, he asked, tentatively putting an arm around her shoulders as he pointed to the name tag. 

“May and Petey!”, Morgan said triumphantly, easily recognizing the names of two of her favourite people. 

“I told you to put my name on it too”, Happy muttered to May in a way that was supposed to be discreet, but her only response was to smack his shoulder gently. 

“You had absolutely no part in getting this gift ready, and you know it”, she teased, turning to give Stephen a playful smile as he unwrapped the gift. “It was mostly Peter’s idea, I just helped out a bit. Unfortunately, I think you and Peter have the same sense of humour.” 

Stephen sent Peter a grateful glance, but the teen looked away shyly, pretending to shoot webs at the plushie version of himself Morgan was now attacking him with. The sorcerer pulled the wrapping back, ignoring the shaking of his hands, to reveal a black hoodie with white text that said “I’m the weird one in the family”, except the word ‘weird’ had been crossed out with red stitching, the word ‘strange’ embroidered above it in the same red thread. His heart skipped a beat as he read the phrase over and over. _Family._ A wide grin was spread across his face when he realized that he’d been quiet for too long, looking over to Peter immediately.

“This is great, Peter, really. I love it. Thank you so much.” Peter muttered a ‘You’re welcome’ and hid his smile in his elbow as he hugged his knees to his chest. Stephen turned to May. “Thank you as well. I take it you’re the embroidery queen?”, he asked, and she flashed him a bashful smile. 

“Aha, I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m glad you like it.”

More gifts were exchanged around the room, plenty of compliments and hugs passed around as well, while Stephen was glad the focus of attention had been shifted away from him. But he was too lost in the joy of the gift from Peter and May, one thumb brushing across the embroidery and wondering if they really saw him as family. It struck him suddenly, as he looked around the room, that they had to have some sort of genuine appreciation for his company. He was here, wasn’t he? Sharing their gift-giving, and snowball fights, and Christmas dinner. This was what family was, wasn’t it, as disjointed as it may be? Then he couldn’t help but look over at Tony, grateful to catch him in a moment when his attention was focused elsewhere, and he wondered if there was any chance that Tony saw him as family too. The very thought sent his heart into a trill of excitement, rapidly pounding and hidden away in his lock-and-key ribcage. His logic had to squander that burst of warmth, though, as he reasoned that maybe this was an invitation that Tony would extend to any of his friends. The man was so giving, after all. Surprisingly, Stephen’s logic looped back around to usurp his own theory. If Tony would invite just any of his friends over for Christmas, then where were Bruce, Steve, Thor, or any of the others he had gotten to know over a decade of being Iron Man? No, maybe this was something different. 

“This one’s for me!”, Morgan announced excitedly as she deciphered the shaky chicken scratch on the name tag of one of the presents. “It’s from Doc!”, she squeaked, the brightness of her smile almost blowing Stephen away.

“And what do you say, sweetie?”, Pepper asked as sweetly as possible, though she met Stephen with cold eyes. The sorcerer swallowed and ducked his head. Maybe he should have thought to run this backup gift by Tony and Pepper as well. 

“Thank you, Doc”, Morgan beamed, not picking up on the ice coating her mom’s words as she sat down with the small box set on her lap.

“Careful”, Stephen warned gently, ignoring the look Pepper gave him. “It’s a bit delicate.” A look of revered excitement passed over the little girl’s face and she looked to her older brother figure for help.

“Here”, Peter offered, kneeling in front of her carefully. “I’ll hold the box and you untie the ribbon, okay?” 

The room was still with hushed anticipation, everyone focused on Morgan and her delicate task. Stephen was certain someone should be able to hear his furiously thumping heart. Peter definitely could, but was too polite to do anything but send the sorcerer a quick, concerned glance. A small gasp from Morgan upon lifting the lid of the box caused everyone to lean in slightly, an awed smile spilling over the little girl’s face as she lifted an ornate snow globe out of the box. Small hands clutched the decorated base carefully, peering inside the glass sphere of a tiny replica solar system floating amongst a flurry of sparkling stars. 

“Your daddy told me you liked stars”, Stephen told her, accidentally catching Tony’s eye, and the look he gave the sorcerer was almost heartbreakingly soft. Wordlessly, Morgan set the snow globe down on the carpet ever so gently and got to her feet carefully before racing across the living room, throwing her arms around Stephen’s neck as he hugged her back. 

“I love it!”, she said as she pulled back, dark eyes sparkling like stars themselves. “Thank you, thank you!”, she repeated, planting a little kiss on his cheek before racing back to her snow globe.

“It’s a music box, too”, Stephen added, unable to help the smile on his face as he watched Morgan hold the gift like it was the most precious treasure on Earth. With Peter’s help, Morgan turned the small dial on the bottom of the snow globe and the sweet, tinkling tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” filled the living room. Absolutely enraptured, Morgan played the song on repeat until dinner was ready. 

*****

Dinner went by without any food mishaps this time, though Stephen was sure the only reason a massive argument didn’t break out was because he, Pepper, and Tony were separated again. Rhodey acted as a good buffer between the quietly fuming couple, while Stephen was at the opposite end of the table again, grateful to have May and Peter on either side of him. He hadn’t gotten to know May very well yet, but if her joint gift with Peter was any indication, she was open to welcoming him into their odd little world. And focusing on conversation between her, Peter, Happy, and himself was a welcome distraction from avoiding eye contact with Tony, something that could only add more tension to their situation. This didn’t stop him from being able to tell when Tony was looking at him, though. He could practically feel the other man’s gaze burning into his shoulder, but did his best to ignore it. 

*****

After-dinner cleanup was punctuated by stories which hadn’t ended by the time dinner had finished, Rhodey and Happy laughing with Tony and sometimes at his expense as they washed and dried dishes while recounting some of the times they’d had to haul his ass out of trouble. Unable to help with the dishes on account of his arm, Tony could only fake laugh back at them as he went to help Pepper pack up the leftovers. The kids were helping May get dessert together while listening to the stories, and Tony ignored the jabs from Harley when Rhodey mentioned the time on the oil rig when Tony insisted that all gun magazines were universal. 

“Yeah, well, make fun of me when you become a weapons expert, small fry”, Tony growled playfully. He looked up from where he was struggling to scoop leftover mashed potatoes out of their pot and into a glass container, Pepper gently swatting his hand away.

“You’re just gonna make a mess, Tony”, she muttered tiredly, her point proven by the several chunks of potato which had made their way onto the table. “‘Let me do it, okay?”

“How am I supposed to get better with my arm if you don’t let me try to do anything, Pep?”, Tony asked, frustrated, but kept his voice low. Everyone else was still listening to Rhodey’s story, allowing them to argue in relative private. “My physio is just to strengthen it, but it doesn’t help me get used to practical use, or fine-tune motor skills. Can you please let me help?” Pepper sighed, carefully wrestling the bowl away from him and giving him a testy look. 

“Maybe you need to stop trying to help so much”, she suggested. “You end up making things worse half the time.” Tony swallowed uncomfortably. He had a feeling she wasn’t just referring to mashed potatoes. 

“Can we not do this right now?”, he muttered quietly, though he noticed Rhodey had glanced over his shoulder at them. 

“Why? Is this a bad time?”, Pepper snapped in a hushed voice. “No arguments allowed because you want everything to be perfect for your wizard?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Speaking of which, why don’t you go find him? Just get out of the kitchen. Please.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, to say anything, but no words came and he shut his mouth again before leaving the room. He escaped the hubbub of loud conversation in the kitchen as his chest contracted uncomfortably in anxiety, but then noticed the soft notes of the piano floating from the back den. 

_Stephen._

Interest piqued, Tony walked down the dark hall, turning into the den where only the desk lamp on top of the piano was turned on. There on the piano bench was the sorcerer, sitting ramrod straight as he let a single finger rest on the keys one at a time. Tony turned on the light without thinking and Stephen turned around, eyes wide as if he had been caught doing something illegal.

“Hey”, Tony said softly, smiling to put him at ease. “You got kicked out of the kitchen, too?” He was relieved to see the sorcerer relax a little, and Tony walked over to slide onto the other end of the bench.

“Pepper didn’t want me to agitate my hands”, Stephen supplied, though they both knew it was a feeble excuse for why she didn’t want the sorcerer in the kitchen. They watched the snow fall outside the large window overlooking the backyard for a while, large flakes falling in flurries as the sky grew from grey to black amongst the heavy storm clouds. It was neither the time or the place to talk about what had happened in the kitchen earlier, and Tony could only hope Stephen knew how sorry he felt for Pepper talking to him as she had. 

“You play?”, Tony asked quietly, gesturing to the keys in front of them. Stephen nodded once as he drew a finger softly down one of the keys. 

“Used to”, Stephen replied with a small smile. Tony arched a sympathetic brow before adjusting himself on the bench and playing two keys with his good hand.

“Do you know ‘White Christmas’?”, he asked, giving Stephen a teasing look as the sorcerer hesitated. “Of course you do. C’mon, Doc. I need you to be my right hand.” Tony’s heart flickered a little as Stephen scooched closer to him on the bench and took up the keys that Tony’s right hand should have been on. As he had just tried to explain to Pepper, he hadn’t been able to fine-tune the more delicate motor skills in his cybernetic arm, and wouldn’t be able to complete the fairy intricate motions required to play. 

“_I’m dreaming of a white Christmas_”, Tony sung quietly, though it was more speaking in hushed tones than singing. “_Just like the ones I used to know._” He chanced a glance at Stephen, who was focused on keeping pace with Tony’s playing, though his hands didn’t seem to be shaking as much as usual, so Tony thought it would be fine to continue.

“_Where the treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow._” He was about to continue the second verse when he looked over at Stephen and their eyes met. The sorcerer’s were like sea glass, calm and overflowing with affection and Tony realized how close they were sitting together on the bench, his skin prickling dangerously with electricity. His breath had stopped in his throat completely, so he was grateful when Stephen picked up the next verse as he looked down to focus on his hand placement again.

“_I’m dreaming of a white Christmas._” Tony was surprised by how light his singing voice was, so different from his usual rumbling baritone, but it just made it that much sweeter. “_With every Christmas card I write._” Tony found his voice again with great difficulty when Stephen looked up again and met his eyes, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as they finished the verse together. “_May your days be merry and bright. And may all your Christmases be white._” 

Tony was acutely aware of his own breathing as silence filled the room, though conversation still filtered down the hall from the kitchen. He pulled his hand away from the keys and let it rest in his lap, his gaze following it there as he fidgeted with the metal and silicon of one of his artificial digits. 

“You have a nice singing voice”, Stephen said suddenly, his voice still hushed, and Tony looked up at him again, desperately willing away the heat that involuntarily rose in his cheeks. 

“So do you. I knew I was right to peg you as the musical type.” Stephen laughed a little.

“Well, I better be considering I had lessons since the age of six. And I’m somewhat mildly obsessed with knowing the name, artist, and release date of every song ever recorded.” Tony scoffed.

“So, you’re musical Wikipedia? Okay. Give me ‘White Christmas’ stats, then.”

“Released in 1942 by Irving Berlin, while the version sung by Bing Crosby is the world's best-selling single.” Tony smiled in bewilderment.

“What about ‘Back in Black’?”

“Release date July 25, 1980 by AC/DC, but you knew that already”, Stephen quipped back and Tony’s smile grew even wider.

“Okay. How about this?”, he asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket and playing a song on the speakers in the room. 

“Rock Me Gently”, Stephen said after hearing the first three seconds of the song. “ Released on June 22, 1974 by Andy Kim and reaching Billboard #1 in the same year.”

“”You’re a freak of nature”, Tony said affectionately, absolutely infatuated. “How did I not know this about you?”

“I’m not a show-off”, Stephen smirked, making Tony laugh for real for the first time that evening. 

“Ah, yes. Forgive me, I forgot how modest you were, Merlin.” Their eyes locked for a second and Tony felt the world melt away as he froze, almost grateful when he heard feet approaching from down the hall. 

“Hey, Tony, we’re gonna watch a movie now”, Harley announced as he popped his head in the room and then left just as quickly, leaving the two men alone with their pounding hearts.

“Alright, let’s go then, Billy Joel”, Tony said, standing abruptly from the piano bench, his cheeks flushed slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. Stephen’s only response was to scoff slightly as he stood.

“Please, Tony. Elton John or nobody.” 

*****

It took several minutes of Peter and Harley arguing, but they finally agreed on a movie that was both appropriate for Morgan and interesting enough for the adults, and everyone settled in the living room under blankets with hot chocolate, popcorn, and the tin of lapsi candy Stephen had brought. Luckily, there was enough room on the couch, along with multiple arm chairs and recliners, that there weren’t any uncomfortable seating situations to add to the tension between certain people in the room. Stephen sat on the far end of the sofa, with Peter beside him and Morgan sitting on the teen’s lap as she held one of the bowls of popcorn on hers. Happy and May were cuddled up together on the other end of the sofa, while Pepper, Tony, and Rhodey had each claimed one of the chairs. Meanwhile, Harley was more than happy to sprawl on a massive bean bag chair with a bowl of popcorn to himself. 

Stephen was rather touched to see that Morgan hadn’t put down her new snow globe yet, the only time it had been out of her hands was when Pepper had made her leave it in her room during dinner. She had been playing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ on repeat, carefully cranking up the music box on the bottom of the snow globe each time, even once during the movie until Pepper asked her gently to stop so that everyone could hear the movie. At about the halfway point of the movie, she had migrated from Peter’s lap to the space between the teen and sorcerer on the sofa, the snow globe still hugged to her chest. Stephen noticed that she was starting to lean against his arm as she watched the movie, eyelids fluttering shut momentarily before she snapped herself back awake when her head lolled forward. Stephen could guess that she had been up very early to open Christmas presents, and his heart softened to see her trying to stay awake. 

Stephen wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, groggy with food and warmth as he was, but one minute Morgan was slumped half asleep against his side, and the next she was laying belly-down on top him, cheek pressed against his chest with one arm still wrapped around her snow globe. Stephen froze, realizing that he had slumped down against the cushions during the course of the movie, and Morgan was laid full length on top of him. He sent Pepper a tentative glance, but she seemed to have not noticed, or maybe she didn’t mind. No, she would mind once she saw her daughter asleep on the man she hated. But, for the moment, Stephen was lost in the joyful beating of his heart, the little girl cuddled against his chest bringing a warmth and light to the very centre of his being that he hadn’t thought possible. 

Stephen Strange had never planned on having kids; they simply weren’t in the books. Getting out of all the pain and hate at home had been a feat within itself, and then college and med school took over his life. He’d never had the time or social skills to have a serious relationship with any of the guys he dated during his younger years, so many of them turned into meaningless one night stands, as he found it easier to focus on his studies anyway. Christine was the first and last woman he had ever dated and he had obviously fucked that up, driving her away by being an egotistical jerk who didn’t deserve her. And if he had ever had a chance to have kids with anyone, the closest he had gotten was Christine, though that wasn’t close at all. So, Stephen had never seen kids in his future. Even if he had to swallow down the occasional weird, empty feeling upon seeing a young dad with his baby, there was no point dwelling on the impossible. Who would want to have kids with some arrogant, self-centred asshole anyway? 

But, then, looking down at Morgan, with her big eyelashes and chubby cheeks and dark hair all in disarray, he remembered that he had changed after all. Tony wouldn’t have welcomed him to spend Christmas with his family if he were still that same arrogant, self-centred man. All of his paternal instincts surged to the surface after years of being pushed down and he felt his throat closing up as tears welled in his eyes. He felt himself being watched and looked over to where Tony was sprawled in his recliner, giving the sorcerer a sleepy smile, his eyes softening, looking as though his heart was melting at the sight. Stephen’s first instinct was to return his grin, but remembered Pepper might see, so tensed up instead. Unfortunately for him, Morgan had no intention of moving, cuddled up quite contentedly against his chest with a blanket dragged over her. Stephen grappled with his embarrassment at having been caught, worried that Tony (or more likely Pepper) would accuse him of stepping out of line concerning his place amongst their family. But no one said anything. No one made any move to take Morgan away, to move her, to suggest to Stephen that what he was doing was wrong. Maybe it was okay. He relaxed a little, even chancing a gentle hand on her back. 

By this time, the end credits of the movie were rolling, as everyone sleepily stirred from their respective spots around the living room. Pepper was the first to rise, and Stephen expected her to take Morgan to bed. But she just quietly told Harley that she would help him with the pull-out bed in the den, so she left the room with Harley trailing after her and Stephen remained somewhat gleefully trapped. Pepper was followed by May and Happy who bid everyone goodnight in hushed tones so as not to wake Morgan up, the couple heading upstairs to the guest bedroom. After a sleepy, mumbled argument with Tony about not being that tired, Peter leaned down for a hug and goodnight cheek kiss from Tony, before making his way up to his own room on the second floor. Rhodey got up from his chair after him, declining Tony’s offer to help him with the pull-out bed in the basement, though he dipped down to accept a cheek kiss from his friend and waved a goodnight to Stephen before heading downstairs. Tony finally heaved himself up from his recliner, cheeks flushed with warmth, eyes sleepy, and hair all mussed, and Stephen thought that he had never seen something so beautiful. 

“Okay”, Tony muttered. “Let’s get this little munchkin a comfier bed than a wizard.” Stephen bypassed the wizard comment, moving his hand off Morgan’s back so that Tony could pick her up. Concern flashed through his chest as he worried for Tony’s cybernetic arm, but the man seemed fairly confident in his abilities to handle forty odd pounds of five-year-old. Stephen’s breath caught as Tony leaned in close in order to scoop Morgan up in his arms, not daring to try and help because of his hands and because he didn’t want to wake her. Tony’s face was inches from his own and Stephen worked hard to keep his mind from spinning with possibilities, trying to block out all those futures he had seen where he knew what Tony’s lips felt like. A soft huff of air left Tony as he grunted and straightened up with Morgan in his arms, who was only disturbed for a few seconds before relaxing against her dad’s chest. Stephen’s skin was tingling where Tony’s good hand had brushed against his chest through the fabric of his t shirt, his entire body electric as he tried to ignore that Tony had just been within kissing distance. 

He allowed himself to look up and meet Tony’s eyes, the other man looking as though he regretted not giving him a cheek kiss as well, chalking it up to ‘Everyone else got one, obviously you get one too’, but neither of them said anything to that affect. Instead, Tony gave him a soft smile, like that didn’t make it hurt even more.

“Goodnight, Doc”, he whispered, breaking Stephen’s heart a little. 

“Goodnight”, Stephen whispered back, and watched Tony gently cup his daughter’s head to his shoulder as he climbed the stairs, leaving Stephen alone on the sofa which would be his bed for the night. He stared at the stairs even when they were no longer in sight, a turmoil of emotions racing through his mind and none of them were appropriate, so he tried to tamp them down. Pepper came down the hall from the den, but did them both the courtesy of pretending to check something on her phone until she got to the bottom of stairs before trailing Tony to their room. 

Stephen’s heart ached, watching her go, knowing who she got to share a bed with every night. The blizzard blew ferociously outside, making him feel all the more lonely. He allowed himself to imagine, just for a second, what it would be like to be held in Tony’s arms, warm and secure and safe and loved. He regretted it immediately, eyes welling with tears because that was never going to be his. Not with Tony. They just weren’t in that reality. This wasn’t one of the possibilities where he would have the honour of openly loving Tony Stark. 

Before Stephen could divulge too deeply into self-pity, he heard the sound of creaking footsteps on the stairs, and was surprised to see Tony descending them, armed with a heavy wool blanket. 

“Thought you might need this”, Tony muttered, dropping the blanket on the sofa beside Stephen and going to gather some of the other lighter blankets from where they were scattered around the room. It was a cold night, but Stephen could have gathered the blankets just as easily, so he couldn’t help but wonder if Tony had another reason for being down here. 

“How are your hands?”, Tony continued, voice laced with worry. “Do you need a tea or something? Or I can just get you water.”

“Water would be great”, Stephen said softly with a grateful smile, and followed Tony into the kitchen. He watched him pour a glass of water from the tap, only filling it halfway. He knew what Stephen could handle. Tony turned to him, glass of water still clutched in his hands as he stared down at them, struggling to find words for the first time Stephen had known him. 

“Look”, he started, keeping his voice hushed to avoid disturbing anyone. “About what happened earlier today…” He trailed off, hoping Stephen would know what he was referring to. 

“It’s fine”, Stephen said quickly, tears threatening as he remembered Pepper’s harsh words from earlier. “I was way out of line with the pendant thing. I should have ran it by you and Pepper before I even made it. On second thought, I probably shouldn’t have gotten Morgan anything. It’s a little inappropriate, I suppose, given-.”

“I’d like it”, Tony cut in, looking up to meet Stephen’s eyes, both of his full of worry despite the blindness in one of them. “The pendant, I mean. If you still want to give it to her, that is.” At Stephen’s nod, he continued. “I’d, uh, I’d like to hang on to it for her, until she can make her own decisions about magic, at least.” He gave Stephen something like a messy half-wink, but it was enough to mend the crack in the sorcerer’s heart. 

“Would you like it now, or…?”

“Sure. If you have it.” Stephen responded by pulling a tiny wood box out of the pocket of his cardigan and handing it over to Tony, ignoring the way even his metal fingers brushing against the sorcerer’s hand made his spine tingle pleasantly. He watched with bated breath as Tony opened the little box and pulled out a slim, silver necklace. As Stephen had told them earlier, the circular pendant was engraved with a simple, five-point star, perfectly offset by the delicate appearance of the chain. 

“Wow”, Tony breathed, letting it catch the light as it spun, before placing it carefully back in its box. “This is beautiful. She would love this to bits, Steph.” He paused, seemingly not knowing the effect that nickname had on the poor sorcerer’s heart rate. “You must have put a lot of time into making this.” 

“Not really”, Stephen said quickly, hoping he could downplay the literal days of work he had put into crafting the physical necklace and then infusing it with hundreds of protection spells. He was still exhausted from the process, to be honest. But he couldn’t let Tony know how invested he was, how much effort he had put into trying to make a positive impression on his family.

“I truly didn’t mean any harm”, Stephen added, wishing he could have just bitten his tongue. 

“No. Of course you didn’t”, Tony said quickly. “As far as I’m concerned, Stephen, you don’t have a mean bone in your body.” Stephen swallowed, wishing that were true, but nodded his thanks anyway.

“I didn’t mean to offend Pepper”, he said, starting to fidget with his hands. “And I definitely wasn’t trying to insinuate that you two couldn’t protect her.” The affronted look Tony gave him at his words was almost comical. 

“Are you kidding? We’ve all seen the shit that’s out there, ready to crush our world like a bug, and you don’t think I’d jump at the chance to give my daughter an extra smidgen of protection? And I understand being freaked out by magic, but Pepper’s reaction…?” Tony paused, giving his words some thought. “Maybe she just needs some time to warm up to the idea, I don’t know. But look at me, Steph”, he said in slight exasperation as he gestured down to himself, and then at his own face. Stephen’s only thought was, _‘Yeah? You’re beautiful. What’s your point?’ _

“Let’s face it, I’m past my prime”, Tony continued. “I’m half blind, my arm’s a piece of shit and, without nanotech, I don’t think I could even fit into my suit right now. So, no, I’m not exactly Earth’s greatest defender anymore, or exactly fit to be Morgan’s. But the only reason I can sleep at night is because I know she’s got a great support system, people who would go to the ends of the Earth to keep her safe. And if you’re one of those people, well…” -he brushed his knuckles against Stephen’s upper arm, mimicking a punch. “That’s just another reason to keep you around, isn’t it?” Stephen chuckled lightly, giving Tony a look that was meant to be testing, but just came off as fond. 

“Speaking of which, I didn’t get a chance to give you your present”, Stephen rumbled with a twinkle in his eye, his heart swelling at the happy-surprised look on Tony’s face.

“How is that a ‘speaking of which’?”

“Well, what I’m giving you will help make your life force withdrawal pain more bearable. One of the reasons you keep me around”, Stephen said, chancing a quick wink though his heart was beating ridiculously fast in anticipation. They both tried not to think about how likely it was that they'd be spending a lot more time apart in the future. “It’s pretty similar to Morgan’s, but instead of general protection spells, I’ll be able to infuse a very small piece of my life force into the pendant, so you can carry it with you, and we can be apart for longer periods of time while being in less pain."

“You got me jewelry, Strange?”, Tony teased with a grin, though his voice had acquired a softer edge to it. 

“Made it, actually”, Stephen said, handing another small box to him rather unceremoniously. “I didn’t put any of my life force in it yet, though. I wanted to make sure you wanted it first.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but Tony’s face. “It’s also safer to do with you around, so…” He finally made himself look up, Tony’s good eye like dark chocolate and sparkling brandy in the low light as he watched the sorcerer fidget awkwardly, a soft smile making his smile lines crease. He finally saved Stephen by opening the box which was dwarfed in his hands, flesh and metal alike, pulling out another silver chain with a small, round pendant. But instead of a star engraved on the front, there was an inverted triangle within a circle. 

“It’s my arc reactor”, Tony said with hushed awe, looking up at Stephen with a grin. “It’s beautiful, Steph. Thank you.”

“Hopefully it will help in the future”, Stephen replied as he ducked his head, embarrassed. 

“Yeah, I guess we’ll set up a time for me to come over, so you can do the life force thing safely?”

“Yes. At the Sanctum would probably be best.”

“Well”, Tony said, reaching into the pocket of his pants. “My gift’s gonna seem a little lame after that, but here you go.” Stephen's heart quaked in his chest as he took the small, narrow box Tony handed him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Tony.”

“Sure I did.”

Stephen’s hands were trembling terribly, and not just with his usual tremors, as he tried to untie the ribbon.

“I’m sorry”, Tony said, gently taking the box back from him, and Stephen found that he didn’t mind. “Here, let me.” Tony untied the ribbon and handed the box back to him so he could take the top off himself. Inside was a brushed silver band of metal which looked like a simple, fitted bangle, but Stephen could guess that there was more to it. 

“It’s pretty much a glorified Apple watch”, Tony said, taking it out of the box and tapping on the face of it, a small, translucent screen coming up with the digital time. “There’s a hologram feature if you want to see it bigger than on the band.” He demonstrated as he tapped a button on the screen and the hologram jumped up to show the screen enlarged in a blue light. “The main reason I made it was for the voice to text software which I’ve got to 100% accuracy, ‘cause I know how you hate texting”, Tony said with a half-smile and Stephen’s heart jumped. Tony would never phrase it as ‘Because you can’t text very well without your hands being in pain’. No, he just brushed it off as personal preference and created a device to help Stephen do what he needed to as painlessly and easily as possible. 

“You made this for me?”, Stephen asked, in awe, and Tony shrugged modestly. 

“Well, I made a prototype for myself so you got the second, better version, but…yeah, I made it with you in mind.”

“You’re incredible”, Stephen breathed as he turned the watch over in his hands. “I mean it - it’s incredible”, he remedied quickly, but Tony had heard him, looking down at his feet bashfully. 

“It’s alright”, Tony said, laughing a bit. “I’ll definitely be giving it some upgrades sooner than later.” He took a deep breath, meeting Stephen’s eyes again. “I’m glad you like it, Steph”.

“I love it”, Stephen assured and the moment weighed heavy, as they stood too close together in the silent half-light of the kitchen.

“Did Pepper finish helping Harley with the pull-out?”, Tony asked suddenly, taking a half-step back. “I thought she’d be coming up to bed after…”

“I saw her go upstairs”, Stephen replied with a small frown, watching Tony’s expression crumble.

“Ah”, Tony said numbly, trying to hide the fact that he was beginning to tear up. “She must have gone to sleep in Morgan’s room. Morgan’s been having nightmares the past few nights”, he explained, though Stephen knew Tony wouldn’t have looked so heartbroken if that were actually the case. “Well, I’ve been up since six, so I’m gonna…”, Tony said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to the stairs. 

“Of course. Goodnight, then”, Stephen muttered and Tony surprised him by stepping forward and wrapping the sorcerer up in his arms. Stephen returned the hug, heart pounding in his chest, allowing himself to relax in the other man’s embrace and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this safe, if ever. Tony smelled like warmth and home and hot chocolate and his head fit perfectly into the space between Stephen’s neck and shoulder. The sorcerer felt his life force thrumming, perfectly alive for the first time since their hug like this in Central Park, when Tony had been crumbling, giving up on himself and the world. But this was different. Tony was sturdy and solid now, not the sobbing, breaking mess Stephen had gathered in his arms in the cold and snow. His warmth was like a healing salve, making the sorcerer realize how truly touch-starved he was, and he was relieved to feel the strength in Tony’s cybernetic arm that had caused him so much pain. 

Tony pulled back after a while, making Stephen’s heart stutter as he grazed the sorcerer’s cheek with a quick kiss, lips soft amongst the prickle of his stubble. 

“Goodnight, Steph”, Tony rasped, eyes soft as he pulled back fully and turned to climb the stairs, leaving Stephen with his heart in his throat and a watch in his shaking hands. 


	13. Some Things Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony secretly goes to the Sanctum so Stephen can put a piece of his life force in the pendant he gave him. He comes home to find Pepper waiting and furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS THIS CONSIDERED SLOW BURN YET??? (Feed me comments please! Comments=serotonin and serotonin=more writing)
> 
> This chapter changed so much from when I first did the outline almost three months ago. I didn’t have the idea about the pendants yet, and Tony and Pepper were still friendly. I think it fits in a lot better this way, though. 
> 
> The part where the driver honks at Tony before realizing who he is is so fucking funny to me. Like can you IMAGINE? I would die on the spot. 
> 
> Tony losing his shit over Stephen in the black robe, meanwhile poor Stephen’s brain is just like, “tOnY? In a fitted t-shirt? And omfg- ARM. ARMS. OMG, HELP- ARMS!” Meanwhile, Tony in the meditation room is the embodiment of bi panic. It was nice to finally write him thirsting over Stephen for a change
> 
> 12 missed calls from Pepper = 12% of a moment
> 
> It was really hard writing Pepper and Tony’s argument, because it reminded me of my parents fighting constantly lmao. It was hard, but also a relief to finally let them scream at each other #therapeutic writing And, just to be clear, Stephen was never really the issue. They’ve always had plenty of shit to fight about long before some lonely, handsome sorcerer showed up in their life. Also, I was listening to Selena Gomez’s “Lose You to Love Me” on repeat while writing this scene ‘cause it’s perfect for Tony imo  
The summary of their fight? He is Iron Man, and no one, least of all Pepper Potts, is going to change that.

Tony was flooded with disappointment when he woke up on Boxing Day morning to a text from Stephen. He traipsed halfway down the stairs, still in pyjamas and bare feet, to sit on the step and stare at the empty sofa where the sorcerer had spent the night. He looked down at his phone in the shaky grip of his cybernetic hand, reading the text over again. 

_I’m sorry if I made yesterday difficult, but I’m grateful I got to spend time with you and your family. I hope you don’t mind if I leave before everyone gets up. Probably better that way._

The text was time-stamped at 6:23 am, and Tony’s heart did a weird flip-flop in his chest, thinking of Stephen leaving in the dark of the cold early morning, all red cloak and sparkling gateway as he must have struggled through the heavy snow which had covered the cabin during the night. His chest ached to think of Stephen feeling like a bother, removing himself from the situation to ensure everyone else’s comfort. It was nearly a pointless gesture at this point, if Tony’s night alone in the empty expanse of his king-size bed was any indication. This morning would be awkward whether Stephen was there or not, and Tony decided in that moment that he would have definitely preferred to wake up and be sharing a tea with the sorcerer right now, to be making blueberry pancakes with his company before the kids (and adults) finally dragged themselves out of bed. 

**_He had every right to want to leave_**, Tony thought to himself, his mind running over the events of the day before. Pepper had treated the sorcerer abysmally, though Tony wasn’t sure who he blamed anymore. Probably himself. Yeah, that sounded about right. 

Then Tony’s thoughts drifted to the events that occurred right after everyone else went to bed, how he and Stephen had exchanged gifts that felt like secrets. What had compelled him to come back down after putting Morgan to bed? What had made him use that wool blanket as an excuse just so that he could talk to Stephen in private? Stephen had been over enough times to know where the downstairs linen closet was, so the gesture had been more than unnecessary. Maybe it was because Tony had felt like something was missing, like he had forgotten something. Yeah, that must have been it. It had felt right in the moment, to pull the sorcerer into his arms which finally felt strong again, to plant a kiss on his cheek because that’s what Tony did with everyone. Then why was he having mixed feelings now? Like it had been alright at the time, but now he couldn't help but feel he had done something terribly wrong.

Maybe kissing Stephen had been a mistake.

*****

December came to an end, but the deep snow stayed, and then it was New Year’s Eve and they took the kids bowling. The kids being Morgan, of course, but so was Peter, and as much as Harley slouched and complained that he was missing a house party with his friends, Tony could see some kind of relaxed contentment take over the kid’s shoulders as he laughed with the rest of them. Bowling was probably a bad idea, to be honest. Tony had to throw the ball with his left hand (he wasn’t willing to risk his cybernetic arm with the weight of a bowling ball yet), Rhodey couldn’t kneel as smoothly as he needed to with his braces, and Happy was about as coordinated as a day-old fawn. But it didn’t matter because they were all there, partaking in friendly competition and laughing with each other as most of their shots ended up in the gutter. Tony could get lost in a moment of teasing with Rhodey or Peter for a few minutes, jokingly taunting the other teams before he was distracted again. Someone was acutely missing from their group, but he hadn’t been willing to risk his luck by inviting Stephen along for New Year’s celebrations as well as Christmas. Some things needed to be taken slowly. After Stephen had slipped away on Boxing Day morning, there had been somewhat of a silent agreement between the two to spend some time apart, initiated by the single sentence Stephen had texted him. 

_Let me know when you want to come over to finish your pendant._

Tony had decided to wait until he couldn’t bear it any longer, until the separation manifested itself into physical symptoms, until the pain in his chest was enough to interfere with his daily routine. That had been a week ago and the aching burn was just starting to become unbearable, as Tony found himself subconsciously toying with the pendant hanging hidden underneath his t shirt. He dropped it, though, noticing Pepper watching him warily, like she knew he was hiding something. She still didn’t know about Tony’s gift from the sorcerer. Her finding out about the pendant hadn’t been a concern, not that there was really anything to hide, Tony told himself. They hadn’t shared their bed since before Christmas, so she hadn’t had the chance to see the pendant slip from under his shirt, or to see him shirtless with it on, for that matter. Instead, Pepper had been sleeping with Morgan in her bed, though their daughter hadn’t had a single nightmare in the past week. 

It was that night, after bowling had ended with a triumphant win from Peter, Harley, and May’s team, and they were all taking up a booth at a sushi restaurant, that Tony finally decide to make a move. He was browsing the menu, Morgan between him and Happy as they tried to find something to her taste, while every dish he read reminded him of a certain sorcerer. They had gone to a sushi place on one of their many lunch get-togethers, Stephen giving him an in-depth tour of the menu, Japanese cuisine aficionado that he was. Tony remembered laughing with him as they ordered the oddest dishes and types of sushi they could find, daring each other to try weird pieces of fish like a bunch of teenage boys. Lost in the blur of happy memories while guilt flooded his chest, Tony set his menu down suddenly, excusing himself to the restroom. 

Once he locked the door of the bathroom, Tony slumped against the wall, drawing a hand down his face as he pulled Stephen’s name up in his texts. He rapidly typed out a sentence, letting Stephen know what day and time he’d be able to go over to the Sanctum, hitting send before he lost his nerve. Tony stared down at his phone in quiet horror, feeling guilty for a different reason now, because he knew one thing: He could not tell Pepper that he was going to the Sanctum.

_*****_

It was a Saturday morning when Tony had woken up early in anticipation of his visit to the Sanctum later that day. 

Sleeping in his and Pepper’s bed alone felt weird. There was too much space and he didn’t have anything to curl up against, resorting to hugging a pillow to his stomach. So he found himself awake at 5 am, staring at the ceiling in the dark, haunted by the cold side of the bed and his impending lie. He wrestled the situation over in his head a dozen times, trying to justify his decision. It was better for everyone, he argued with himself. He’d slip over to the Sanctum, get the piece of Stephen’s life force infused into his pendant, and then they’d be able to take another break while he and Pepper figured out… To be honest, Tony had no idea how they were going to work through everything. 

Rhodey had seemed optimistic every time he asked about how he and Pepper were doing, but Tony was skeptical. They’d fought through rough patches in the past, but this was nothing like that. This was different. It was as if, as Tony realized his dependence on Pepper didn’t dictate how his entire life went, that he was allowed to change on his own and not only in the direction she wanted. Because he _had_ changed, there was no denying that. Tony figured it would be impossible to commit a form of suicide, but then come back to life anyway, and not be changed in some way. His Snap had altered not only his body, but his mind, and his entire life, apparently including his relationship with Pepper. 

He’d done and said everything he could to try to get her to understand how much he needed Stephen’s friendship and presence, even if she hated it. He’d been as compliant and as giving as possible as he tried to keep her happy in every other aspect, but all she wanted was for him to cut Stephen out of his life; the one thing that he couldn’t force himself to do. 

Tony grumbled to himself as he rose to his feet for the sixth time that morning. He’d been reading the news on his tablet at the kitchen table, letting his coffee get cold before topping it up repeatedly. It was impossible to focus on articles about radiation-caused mutants when he was planning to risk lying to his wife in order to get the pain relief he desperately needed. He hefted himself from his chair, looking out the kitchen window as he poured more coffee into his mug. It had snowed again last night, and though the clouds were parting in the light of the mid morning, the stump of his cybernetic arm was aching dully. His chest was aching too, and it took everything in his power not to text Stephen to open a gateway to the Sanctum right then and there. 

No. He had to cover his tracks first. 

The stairs creaked with footsteps thudding down them and Tony’s heart jumped, expecting Pepper. He relaxed though, as Morgan, all sleepy eyes and bedhead came into view, dragging her Spider Man plush behind her. 

“Morning, Moguna”, Tony muttered as she came over for her morning cheek kiss, and he passed his good hand through her hair, brushing it away from her face. “Did you have a good sleep in?”

“Mmhmm. Breakfast now?”

“Yeah, yeah, we can do breakfast. What’re you feeling?” Morgan laid her head against his arm as she thought, still groggy with sleep, but always ready to be thinking about food. “Pancakes?”, she asked finally. 

“Pancakes it is. You gonna help me, monkey?”

“Yes!”, she said excitedly, suddenly infused with energy as she climbed onto a kitchen chair while Tony grabbed the designated pancake mixing bowl from on top of the fridge. He was grateful for the lack of pain in his cybernetic arm as he went about his day, like grabbing eggs and milk from the fridge, directing Morgan to measure flour from the bag.

“Is Mommy awake yet?”, he asked Morgan and she shook her head no. 

“Mommy was still tired. She said ask you for breakfast”, the little girl relayed as she dumped flour into the bowl. Tony nodded, but felt himself begin to panic in confusion. Pepper never slept in this late, not even on weekends, so for her to do so must have meant that something was really wrong. He didn’t express this outwardly, of course, letting Morgan mix the bowl of batter while he cleaned up the ingredients. 

“You and Mommy have a play date today, don’t you? You’re going to see…Annie, was it?”

“Yeah! We’re going to build snowmans and snow forts and have lunch at Annie’s house.”

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of fun. I’m obviously missing out.”

“Daddy can come”, Morgan offered as she brushed her hair out of her face. Tony chuckled, ruffling her hair and kissing the top of her head. 

“That’s okay, pumpkin. Daddy has a doctor’s appointment to go to today. Maybe next time, okay?” Tony choked on the small lie, hating the way it made his stomach turn. Morgan nodded as she watched him carry the bowl of batter to beside the stove, the cast iron pan heating up on a burner, before looking up at him with concern.

“Does Daddy’s arm hurt?” Tony’s heart broke a little at the worried look on her face. With all that had happened, Morgan just assumed that he was in pain more often than not, and he didn’t blame her. He’d had to gently explain that he was hurting too much to play with her more times than his heart could bear, though Morgan had never complained as she either cuddled up with him carefully, or went to go find Pepper. Now, Tony felt guilty for worrying her when he was actually lying to her, putting an arm around her shoulders as he reassured her. 

“Ah, no, my arm’s fine, honey. It’s just a checkup. The doctor just wants to make sure I keep getting better.”

“Okay”, Morgan replied quietly and Tony couldn’t stand the worry in her big, brown eyes.

“Do you want chocolate chips in your pancakes?”, he asked, and she perked up a little.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Okay, good. We’ll do chocolate chips, then.”

*****

Tony was still picking at his cold plate of pancakes long after Morgan had finished eating, head snapping up as Pepper stepped into the kitchen, fully dressed and as put together as ever. Her head was held high, poised and icy as Tony abolished the thought that something had been wrong just because she slept in. He had obviously just been reading too much into it. His gaze followed Pepper as she walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, waiting for her to say something first. Instead, she pointedly ignored him, walking behind his chair and into the living room to tell Morgan to get dressed and ready to leave for her playdate. Tony watched Morgan fly up the stairs, fearful of her stumbling and wishing his daughter hadn’t inherited so much of his reckless streak. He looked over to where Pepper was standing, sweater immaculate, blonde hair in a high ponytail like in the old days as she sipped her coffee.

“I take it you’re not coming with us?”, she asked suddenly, her tone dry like she already knew the answer. Tony choked, wanting to say more, wishing they had time right now to talk about…everything. Instead, he shook his head slowly and looked back down at his plate, drowning a piece of pancake in a puddle of maple syrup, avoiding eye contact as he silently worked himself up to his lie.

“No. I’ve got a doctor appointment at 1:00. But I promised Morgan I’d come to the next playdate.” Pepper just raised a brow like she didn’t believe him, taking another sip of coffee. Then her brow pinched and she met his eyes properly.

“Doctor appointment? Since when?” Tony dropped his fork as he sat back in his chair, horrified to find himself surprised at her interest. 

“It wasn’t planned, I called Doc Sawyer a couple days ago to see if he had an opening.” Tony tapped his chest, his finger subconsciously landing on his arc reactor scar. “Just some chest pain I want to get checked out.”

“Chest pain. Like heart attack chest pain or regular chest pain?” Tony winced, hating that he had regular pain of any type.

“Erm, it’s probably just anxiety. It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.” 

That part wasn’t a lie. His chest pain had been getting worse since he texted Stephen on New Year’s Eve, his ribcage contracting in spasm with each breath. As much as he would have liked to chock it up to general anxiety, he knew he was suffering from withdrawal due to not being around Stephen for almost two weeks. But mentioning that to Pepper never boded well, so he didn’t. 

“Tony, you have anxiety all the time, just take your meds”, Pepper argued gently, sounding exhausted. She wasn’t trying to sound so harsh, Tony reasoned with himself. She’s just tired. But when had she ever taken his anxiety seriously?

“I already made the appointment. I just want to get it checked out”, he reasoned, working to keep his breathing steady as actual anxiety began to settle into his chest. When had this happened? When had their marriage devolved into constant little arguments, usually kept at speaking volume for Morgan’s sake only?

“Alright. Go, if it makes you feel better”, Pepper relented, though it didn’t seem as though she cared much either way. She settled into an armchair, checking the news on her phone. Morgan had lately become very insistent on dressing herself, so she waited patiently for their daughter to come downstairs in her inevitable mismatched outfit. 

Tony tried to go back to the radiation article he had been reading, something about more recent human experimentation, which should have held his attention thoroughly, but his mind kept wandering. His eyes flicked to the time in the upper corner of his tablet every few minutes, willing time to go faster despite himself. Guilt weighed down on him as he found himself wishing Pepper and Morgan would head out so that he could leave and go to his “doctor appointment”. 

“Daddy, look!” Tony was surprised to find he had gotten immersed in his article again as Morgan’s voice made him start. He looked up to see her halfway down the stairs, decked out in a colourful outfit of her own choosing. An Iron Man t shirt stood out in stark contrast to a pink tutu and purple leggings, wood bead necklaces flying behind her as she jumped the last step and ran to Tony. She giggled as he pulled her up into his lap, ignoring the pain when her arm accidentally thumped against his chest. He admired her outfit as she wrapped her arms around his neck, tickling her cheek with his scruff.

“Oh, you look so pretty, Moguna! I love the shirt especially”, he teased, kissing the top of her head.

“You like it ‘cause it’s you”, Morgan giggled, burying her head in his shoulder as she hugged him. 

“Let’s go, Morgan! We don’t want to be late, sweetie”, Pepper said abruptly, but with a gentle smile only reserved for their daughter these days, as she stood from her chair and walked over to rinse her cup in the sink. “Go get your coat and boots on, alright? I’ll grab your snow pants for when we get there.”

Tony let Morgan slide off his lap, chest swimming in anxiety as he watched Pepper pack up a day bag with snow pants, extra mittens, and snacks. Guilt flooded his lungs, making it hard to breathe, before he remembered that half of the pain was from missing Stephen’s half of the life force. But Tony’s heart crumbled a little at the risk he was taking with the lie he would tell, thinking that there might ever be a time when he couldn’t hold Morgan in his lap, when she might become a sidepiece to his and Pepper’s crumbling marriage. No. He would never let that happen. Oh, God. What if they split up, and then got divorced, and Pepper got full custody of her? It was more than likely to happen. Tony could barely take care of himself some days, never mind a five-year-old.

“You’re really pale”, Pepper said suddenly, brow furrowed in concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really”, Tony coughed, feeling like he was drowning in anxiety and pain and guilt, frantically clawing at the surface while liquid filled his chest. “Maybe I _am_ having a heart attack”, he joked, to which Pepper could only grimace in concern. Tony shook his head as Morgan came from the back door in her snow clothes. “I’m kidding. You two go have fun. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay”, Pepper said uneasily, eyes flicking between him and Morgan uncertainly. “Let me know about the results once you get them.” Those words were the closest they’d been to their old levels of affection, and it made Tony want to break down sobbing. 

“Yeah, sure. I will. Have fun, Moguna.”

“Bye, Daddy!”

Then they were out the front door, leaving Tony to stare in silence at the pools of maple syrup on his plate. He sat and listened to Pepper’s car leaving down the long driveway until it was out of earshot, trying to remember what normal breathing felt like. 

“FRIDAY?”, he asked the ceiling.

“Yes, boss.”

“Do an abdominal scan for me?” He was surprised by the AI’s almost patronizing tone when she spoke again.

“You and I both know your chest pain is likely from anxiety, boss. And we know why you’re experiencing anxiety…”

“Are you sassing me right now, FRI? Please, just do what I asked.”

“Right away, boss”, she complied, but he could hear the trepidation almost hidden by her lilt. Almost.

“Can’t believe I’m being back-mouthed by my own tech”, he muttered to himself, checking the time as he grabbed his tablet from the kitchen before he tramped up the stairs. “Actually, I guess I can believe that. I built you so you would keep me on my toes, didn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t know, boss. I didn’t exist at the time.” Tony smirked as he walked into his and Pepper’s room, heading to his closet and sifting through it for nearly ten minutes before FRIDAY spoke again.

“Full abdominal scan complete. Completely clean, as we already knew.”

“I’ll dismantle you”, Tony growled as he compared two different button downs. 

“Shirt on the left, boss”, FRIDAY said in response. “Familiar colour association creates subconscious feelings of trust and attraction.” Tony was embarrassed to feel his cheeks flush, knew FRIDAY could sense it, as his latent association with the light teal shirt was far too telling in some ways.

“Did I ask for a fashion consultation, FRI?”

“No. Though it’s obvious you are in dire need of one.”

“Piss off”, he said, without venom. There was a beat of silence. “Okay, what pants do you think look best with the shirt?

*****

Tony shifted in the seat of his Audi as he looked around for a parking spot, relieved when he spotted one right in front of the Sanctum. It took longer than he would have liked to admit, but he had finally settled on a black t shirt (the teal button down had been too obvious) and dark grey slacks, telling himself that, no, he hadn’t put too much thought into his outfit. His heart had been pounding steadily with the ache of his chest since he got in the car, good hand sweaty on the steering wheel, too anxious about his very small lie to even be nervous about what he was actually here to do. Tony grimaced with annoyance at himself, growling when another car honked at him as he parallel parked on the side of the road.

“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on, asshole.” His cybernetic arm twinged a little as he spun the wheel around quickly, smirking at the other driver’s horrified expression as they passed him and realized who they had just rudely honked at. “Yeah, that’s what you get. I’m sure you’ll be telling your friends all about how you let your road rage get the best of you, and it ended up being the universe’s saviour. No big deal.” Tony didn’t let the grandiose aspects of his Snap get to his head most of the time, but his anxiety didn’t leave much patience for rude drivers today.

He stepped out into the snow, not bothering with his coat, and checked his pants’ pocket for the pendant box for the umpteenth time since leaving the house. Wearing the necklace would have been too brazen somehow, though he’d been keeping it hidden under t-shirts at his collarbone since Stephen gave it to him. But wearing it to the Sanctum? The act was somehow akin towearing one’s wedding band while cheating, but in the opposite way, the thought making Tony shiver as he knocked on the front door of the Sanctum, and not just because of the cold wind. He was pretty sure Stephen had allowed him access past the Sanctum’s guard runes, but he wasn’t about to take his chances. 

**_It’s fine_**, he told himself. **_I’m just going to get the necklace fixed up, stop the pain, and then I’m gonna fix things with Pepper. I’m not doing anything wrong._** But Tony figured he wouldn’t be trying to justify his actions so much if there weren’t something a little wrong with it all. **_You lied to your wife_**, his subconscious spat at him. **_And your daughter. You lied to your little girl, you useless jerk. You don’t deserve them. You don’t-._**

“Shut up”, Tony growled at himself aloud, just as the door to the Sanctum opened. He had come to expect Wong, as the other sorcerer was the one who usually answered the door. Instead, a familiar pair of cerulean eyes met him from the darkness within the Sanctum, before the door was thrown open further. 

“You’re late”, Stephen purred, though his teasing tone showed through in the way the corner of his mouth turned up. The sorcerer stepped back to let Tony inside, and he was immediately wrapped in the warmth of the Sanctum, along with the soothing pulse of Stephen’s life force. 

“I’m fashionably late. There’s a difference”, Tony corrected, snapping his fingers as he turned back around to face him, his nerves giving him the jitters. He took in the soft black cloth draped over the sorcerer’s lanky frame, trailing behind him in swaths of swishing fabric and twisted over his lithe form at the waist like a belt. “What in god’s name are you wearing, Strange?” Stephen held his arms out to the sides as he looked down at himself, his expression caught halfway between offended and amused. 

“It’s a casual robe, I just like wearing it around the Sanctum.” He looked up at Tony. “What? You don’t like it?” 

No. Oh, no, that wasn’t the problem at all. In fact, Tony liked it very much. He had to look away for a couple seconds to distract himself from how much he liked it. The satiny cloth draped around the sorcerer’s broad shoulders shouldn’t have looked as good as it did. No, he should have looked like a little kid running around with a bed sheet as a toga. But there was something about the artful simplicity of the man’s ethereal beauty being wrapped up in a single piece of fabric that was making Tony’s blood race. The ebony cloth didn’t do much to hide how thin yet muscular Stephen was, something Tony usually managed to forget about when the man was decked out in his combat robes or jeans and a bulky cardigan. 

“You look ridiculous”, Tony choked out, managing a grin as his voice poured over with affection that had made its way past the dam. “It looks like some over-the-top kimono.” Stephen only scoffed at him softly, gesturing for Tony to follow him upstairs. 

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not the one walking around in a t-shirt in January.” Tony laughed, feeling some of the anxiety dissolving from his chest.

“Oh, dishing out the shots, are we?” He looked around, trying to distract himself from the way the embroidered cloth was outlining Stephen’s thighs as he climbed the sinfully tall staircase alongside him. “Uh, what’s up? Your doorman slash secretary on a break or something?” 

“Wong’s getting the meditation chamber ready”, Stephen chuckled, uncertainty showing through in his eyes. “I thought it would be best for us to both be as calm as possible before I do the transfer.” A new knot of worry lodged itself in Tony’s gut as he thought about the procedure.

“This, uh, this isn’t gonna be life-threatening or anything, is it, Steph? Like, you wouldn’t be doing this if it were dangerous for you, right?” He met Stephen’s eyes and the look on the sorcerer’s face said that he would go to the ends of the Earth for him if necessary. Tony hated that look, it made him sick to his stomach, but he made himself stare down those silver eyes. Oh. They were silver now. 

“Don’t be ridiculous”, was all Stephen said as they reached the second floor and they turned into the kitchenette where a kettle was boiling. “You think I would have brought it up so casually if it were that dangerous?” Stephen shook his head as he poured the boiling water into a teapot. “No. This is just a gift, Tony. To make both our lives easier and less painful, especially yours.” Tony realized how badly both of his hands were shaking as he watched Stephen set up a tray with mugs and other things for tea. He gripped his left wrist behind his back since he knew the sorcerer had picked up on that anxious tic by now. 

“That’s good, I’m glad. Wouldn’t want you doing something stupid just to make my life easier. Like almost dying”, he tried to joke, but his tone fell flat, betraying the panic and anxiety welling up in his chest again. Stephen’s brow furrowed, straightening up as he studied him with those goddamn intense, beautiful, worried eyes. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”, he said, his voice hushed. 

“No, no. I want to, uh, need to, really. I’m kinda of running out of options when it comes to pain killers so…” His heart faltered as he saw understanding pass over Stephen’s face.

“You didn’t tell Pepper you were coming here, did you?” Tony felt his throat closing up with panic as his eyes darted around the room, his brain looking for an escape. 

“I told her I had a doctor appointment. Which isn’t technically a lie!” Stephen ran a hand down his face, features pinched as he sighed. 

“_Technically_, Tony, that is a lie! Listen, I know you guys are dealing with some stuff right now, but making her hate me even more isn’t going to help the situation! Especially when you’re the one dealing with your pain when you’re not allowed to see me.”

“That’s what the necklace is for, isn’t it?”, Tony asked softly, holding the box out like a peace offering. His breath caught as Stephen stepped forward, like a calm pillar of ivory and obsidian, and gently took the box from him. Tony anticipated the outburst coming, the rejection, the anger, the blame. But it didn’t come. Instead, he felt soft, trembling fingers drop the cool chain and pendant into the palm of his flesh hand, grazing his skin softly and making him shiver. 

“Yes, in a sense. It’s a backup for when we can’t see each other”, Stephen explained, his voice hushed, treading lightly. He was standing close enough that Tony could feel his body heat radiating through those black robes. “But that’s not to say I never want to see you again. I don’t want to lose what ever in the Vishanti’s name this friendship is.” Tony looked up to meet him with a grateful smile, already lost in the depths of his piece-of-sky eyes. 

“Yeah. I mean, no. I don’t either.” He coughed, trying to clear the rasp in his throat. God, his heart was pounding fast. 

“I’m sorry for yelling”, Stephen said, the tension dissolving as he turned to grab the tea tray, and Tony followed him automatically as they walked down the hall. Tony couldn’t help but laugh a little, still clutching the chain and pendant in his fist.

“Stephen, that wasn’t yelling. I’ve gotten worse from the Avengers when the garbage disposal was clogged.”

“Yes, well… Regardless, I don’t like raising my voice.” 

“Big softy”, Tony muttered as they walked to a separate room that Tony had never seen before. The floor and walls were all wood, the floor covered in large pillows, all in ornately embroidered fabric. Incense was burning and Tony was embarrassed to recognize the scents of several essential oils, mostly lavender and tea tree oil. There weren't any windows, so the only available light was provided by several candles perched in alcoves in the corners of the room, giving the entire space a soft, golden glow. 

“So, this is a little cult-like, don’tcha think?”, Tony asked.

“Shoes off, please”, was Stephen’s only response, stepping into the room as he was already barefoot. Tony rolled his eyes, toeing his loafers off and stepping into the room, socked feet slightly unsteady on the plush pillows. 

“Hey, Wong. Come to sell your soul too?”, Tony asked the other sorcerer, who he could just make out in the flickering dark. 

“Yes”, Wong replied, monotone, and Tony snorted. He sometimes forgot that Wong had a really good sense of humour. “But I’ll take my turn after you two.”

“Wong was just helping me cleanse the room of any influential energy”, Stephen explained as he settled on the pillows and set the tea tray beside himself. Tony caught his eye roll, even in the half-dark. “Thank you for that, Wong”, Stephen said pointedly. The other sorcerer took the hint and stood, walking across the cushioned floor with ease.

“Let me know if you accidentally summon something”, he said, as casually as if he were announcing that he’d be going to the store for milk. Tony grinned nervously as he watched Wong leave, the sorcerer closing the door behind himself and plunging the room into an even deeper darkness. 

“He was kidding, right?”, Tony asked as he took Wong’s previous place on the pillows across from Stephen, looking to the sorcerer for confirmation, who sighed deeply.

“Wong likes tormenting people. You should see him with the young apprentices at Kamar Taj. He kept this one group of kids up with nightmares for a week with all his horror stories about weird things that have happened at the sanctuary.” 

“That wasn’t an answer, Strange.”

“No, we’re not going to accidentally summon anything”, Stephen replied patiently with a huff of laughter. It was only then that Tony noticed how gorgeous he looked in the low candle light, like some other-worldly entity draped in the night sky, eyes meeting his like two silver moons. He also noticed something at Stephen’s throat, glimmering as it caught the light with a sparkle of gold reflection. 

“I didn’t know you were the type for jewelry”, Tony said, pointing to the necklace, not failing to notice how it was very similar to the one Stephen had given him. Stephen seemed embarrassed at his words, immediately reaching up to hide the pendant in his fist.

“It’s something Wong made for me during the first few months after…well, you know.” Stephen swallowed, refusing to meet Tony’s eyes. “The spells within it stabilized my immune system and kept me conscious during the worst of it.” Tony felt his heart stutter at the sorcerer’s words, to hear him sound so small and vulnerable.

“I had no idea about any of that.That’s what I reduced you to? When you gave up your-?” He hoped Stephen couldn’t see the way his tears were welling up with tears, how he was having trouble breathing, drowning in guilt once again. “Why didn’t you tell me, Stephen?” His heart broke to see the sad smile Stephen gave him.

“You had your own health issues to worry about.” Tony bit back his frustration, bit his lip until he felt blood.

“Yeah, but I care about you, Stephen!” There. He had said it. “I just wish you had at least told me.” He watched the sorcerer shake his head, smiling patiently like he was explaining something difficult to an impatient child. 

“It’s alright, Tony. Not everything is your responsibility to take care of.”

**_Stop seeing right through me!_**”, Tony wanted to yell, but instead looked down at the necklace still clenched in his hand. He felt very protective all of sudden, like he would do anything to make sure Stephen was never in that kind of pain again.

“Let me give you piece of my life force, too”, he said suddenly, meeting the shock in Stephen’s eyes will all the conviction he could muster. “I can do that, right? Give you a piece to put in your pendant, too? Like, you can sever it or something?” He floundered on his words, hating his lack of expertise in what they were discussing. “Help me out, Strange. I have no idea how any of this works!” He could practically see the wheels turning as Stephen met his eyes. 

“That…would be possible, yes. I’d have to put it in my pendant, though. Even though it was originally mine, it’s connected to your body enough that it wouldn’t just reattach to mine. But, Tony, you don’t need to. I’m completely fine without-.”

“Please”, Tony said, practically begging, wondering what kind of witchery he was under that had reduced him to begging around Stephen Strange. “Let me do this for you.” Stephen’s resolve finally crumbled as his posture softened a bit, giving Tony a look that might as well have been looking into his soul. 

“Alright. Have some tea while I prepare, then.” 

Tony nodded gratefully, grabbing a mug from the tray though he had not intention of drinking from it. He sat back on the pillows and watched Stephen relax into a meditative pose, palms upturned on his knees, eyes closed as he slowed his breathing. Tony was grateful for the opportunity to appreciate the sorcerer without any critical eyes around, taking in the ethereal angles of his face in the low light. 

**_God, what am I doing?_** Tony shifted, making himself look away, though he couldn’t do so for long. The sorcerer was captivating, at peace and unguarded in the safety of the mediation room, and in front of Tony no less. He couldn’t help but feel slightly honoured. He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but he was startled out of his own trance when Stephen’s eyes finally drifted open. 

“You ready?”, Stephen breathed.

“As ready as I’m going to be, I guess.” Tony adjusted his position on his pillow. “It’s not gonna hurt, is it?” He watched Stephen’s expression melt, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“I promise it won’t. I’ll sever the piece from yours first so it won’t affect my energy as much for when I do mine. It will just feel a bit weird, like an air bubble in your chest for a few minutes.” Tony could feel his anxiety rising again, putting his mug of tea down so he could hide his shaking left hand.

“People have done this before, then?”

“Yes. Wong and I were doing some research, and there are accounts of people breaking off tiny bits of their life force to help someone else.” Tony nodded, watching Stephen pass a spell over his hands, though it didn’t steady them, obviously something to do with the severing process. He watched Stephen’s necklace glint in the light again, heart flickering as he recognized the pendant as a miniature Eye of Agomotto. He remembered how Stephen had nearly killed himself looking through 14,000,605 alternate futures (god, was he ever going to be able to forget that number?) with that…necklace, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of…remorse? All he knew was that he was indebted to the sorcerer, was definitely connected to him, and carrying his mark would be one way to pay homage to that.

“Can we switch?”, Tony asked suddenly.

“What?”, Stephen said, blinking at him.

“Can we switch pendants?” **_I want a piece of you,_** Tony wanted to say. **_I want to wear something that shows you saw me worthy to give up a piece of yourself._** He baffled himself with his own emotional logic, but he knew that it felt right. “Is that weird?”, he asked.

“No”, Stephen said immediately, a smile spreading over his face. “That’s not weird. We’re connected, after all”, he said, like he had read Tony’s mind. “It’s a nice idea…to swap our symbols like that.” 

**_Sure, a nice idea_**, Tony thought sarcastically. **_That’s the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard in my life, what the hell am I doing?_** But Tony didn’t have the chance to interrogate himself further as Stephen came closer to him on the pillows, and he swore he could feel the sorcerer’s breath, their knees nearly touching as they sat cross-legged, facing each other. 

“Ready?”, Stephen asked, holding one hand out towards Tony. Tony took his hand, feeling the scars under the pads of his fingers, and took a deep breath.

“Ready.”

Stephen held the arc reactor pendant in one hand, making several motions with his fingers as he placed his other hand on Tony’s chest. Tony stayed stock still throughout the entire process, trying to steady his breathing under Stephen’s large, trembling hand pressed to his chest. It felt like an air bubble trapped in his chest, just like Stephen said it would, disappearing the second the sorcerer pulled his hand back. Silently, Stephen clasped the arc reactor pendant around his own neck, and made another motion with both hands, like snapping his fingers closed and drawing them apart. He explained that this was to transfer the charms for his immune system to the arc reactor pendant as well. 

Tony continued to watch in quiet awe as Stephen placed a hand on his own chest, the now empty Agomotto pendant in the other hand as he severed a portion of his own life force to place into it. Tony could see that it hurt the sorcerer more than it had for him, probably because the life force was a foreign entity in Tony’s body to begin with. He watched with worry in his eyes as Stephen’s brow furrowed with the strain, eyes closed as sweat started to drip down his temples. He wanted to ask if he was alright, but also didn’t want to break the sorcerer’s concentration, letting him complete the transition. After what seemed like an eternity, Stephen slumped forward a little, gasping for air. Tony held steadying hands on his shoulders, holding him upright so he wasn’t constricting his airways.

“Are you okay?”, Tony asked, hearing the tremor of worry in his own voice. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine”, Stephen panted. “Just need to catch my breath.” He dropped the pendant into Tony’s palm with trembling hands. “Here.”

“Thank you”, Tony said quickly, not sure what else to say. He let the miniature Eye rest on the palm of his flesh hand, feeling the light and warmth coming from it. He clasped it around his neck and nearly gasped with the strength and energy it emitted as it rested against his chest, placing a hand over it protectively. It felt like hugging Stephen, he realized, tears welling in his eyes. Embarrassed, he looked up, only to see Stephen watching him with a fond smile even as his breath still came a little faster than usual. 

“Almost as good as the real thing?”, he rasped, tilting his head slightly in question. 

“Yeah, just about”, Tony breathed, overwhelmed. His chest didn’t hurt, his ribs didn’t hurt, he could breathe, he wasn’t in excruciating pain. He almost felt…normal. “How about you? Does everything feel alright?”

“So far”, Stephen nodded, taking the tiny arc reactor in his fingertips as he studied it. Tony couldn’t explain how it felt to see his metaphorical heart held in those broken, strong, scarred, powerful hands. 

“The immunity charms seem to have fused with the pendant seamlessly”, Stephen added. A grin broke over his face as he continued to watch Tony. “You don’t need to look so worried. Everything’s okay”, he soothed. Tony hadn’t realized his anxiety was showing through on his face, watching Stephen like a hawk as the sorcerer leaned back on the pillows, regaining his strength after the energy-draining spells. 

“Yeah, no. This is good. Sorry, Doc, I’m just-.”

“Don’t apologize”, Stephen rumbled, sitting up, and he was suddenly too close. Too close in the dark warmth of the candlelit room. Too close with his bare throat, smooth and white like a pillar of marble. Too close with his bare arms, leaning with their sinewy strength out of all the folds and crevices of his pitch black robes which melted into the darkness around them. Too close with his goddamn silver eyes looking at Tony like he’d hung the sun in the goddamn sky. 

“Stephen”, Tony muttered, forgetting how to breath as his stomach flip-flopped sickeningly like a dying fish. “I’ve gotta go…” Stephen blinked in resignation, leaning back, and the warmth in his eyes was gone.

“Of course”, the sorcerer breathed out, trying to sound brusque, to brush past the moment. Tony was desperately caught between wanting to run out of the room and to drop back into that moment, to get lost in it forever. He wished he could give into the voice in the back of his head, the voice telling him to graze his fingers over those stupidly sharp cheekbones, to know what that lithe body wrapped in the night sky felt like pressed up against him, to get lost in pools of silver, blue, and green until he couldn’t even think anymore. 

** _Jesus Christ, Tony, what are you doing?_ **

He stumbled to his feet messily, unsteady on the pillows as he pushed the door open and stepped out into the light, the air cooler out in the hall than in the closed room. He pulled his loafers back on, shoving his hands in his pockets as Stephen walked out to join him, cheeks flushed beautifully from the warmth of the room. Sweat was still making his brow glisten slightly, hair damp from exertion and falling forward on his forehead, making him look younger with a sort of rakish innocence.

** _Goddamnit, stop it!_ **

****

****

“Thank you”, Tony breathed, barely able to meet the sorcerer’s eyes. “For everything. You’re-.” **_Nope._** “I really appreciate it.” Hoping to not shove his foot in his mouth any further, he turned to walk down the hall as quickly as possible without running, overflowing with guilt.

“Tony!” Tony stopped dead in his tracks at the sorcerer’s call, his voice like the deepest note on a cello. He turned around slowly, meeting Stephen’s eyes even as his heart willed him to walk back to him. 

“This isn’t goodbye”, Stephen said, with such certainty that Tony could feel it in his bones. 

“‘Course not”, he choked out, hoping to sound casual, but he didn’t fool Stephen for a second. The sorcerer simply nodded, like he was resigning to his fate, before turning and disappearing back into the candle-lit dark of the meditation room, and Tony could only ask himself one question.

** _Why did I ever kiss him?_ **

*****

Tony knew something was wrong even before the house came into view.

If twelve missed calls from Pepper meant anything, he had every reason to dread turning off the road and into their driveway. He came around the bend in the driveway, peering around the trees and his heart sunk. Pepper’s car was in the driveway.

“Oh, jeez”, Tony muttered under his breath, the light feeling in his chest beginning to dissolve as he pulled into the garage. Stepping out of the car, he realized the pendant wasn’t as affective as he initially thought; Stephen’s presence was the main reason he had been feeling so well physically. Now, he was having trouble breathing, and not just from the dread that was making his heart pound.

His legs felt eerily light, like he was floating, as he climbed the steps of the front porch, though each step took an enormous amount of effort. He found himself subconsciously reaching for the pendant resting on his chest, though was luckily in the mind to tuck it under his t shirt as he walked through the front door. He hadn’t even taken a full breath when he saw Pepper standing in the kitchen, eerily quiet in the half-light provided by the cloudy afternoon. She spoke and each word dropped like a stone into a tin bucket.

“Where were you?”

Tony swallowed, testing his options. He’d obviously been found out, or she wouldn’t be here.

“Not at a doctor appointment”, he tried, working hard to keep his voice steady, not confrontational. The look Pepper gave him was searing, brow pinched as she made a visible effort to keep her own jaw from quivering.

“You were with Stephen.”

It wasn’t a question.

Pepper didn’t give him the chance to respond.

“I called the doctor’s office to see if you had any test results back, and they said you didn’t even have an appointment booked for today! And I never would have had to call the doctor’s office if you had just picked up your phone!”

Tony remembered setting his phone to silent before stepping into the meditation room because, well…that seemed like the obvious thing to do. Only now did he regret that decision sorely. Hence the 12 missed calls and 3 texts with increasing levels of worry. 

“Pepper, I-.”

“You put your phone on silent? When you were with _him_?!” Tony winced as her voice reached that familiar high pitch it often did when she was thoroughly freaking out. He hadn’t heard that pitch in years. They avoided yelling around Morgan at all costs. 

“We were just-.” Pepper held her finger up, absolutely red-faced furious.

“No, back to the first thing. You. _Lied_. To me. How could you do that? We’re _married_ Tony. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?”

“Of course you do.”

“Then why did you lie to me?!” 

“Because this!”, Tony said, gesturing helplessly between them. “I shouldn’t have lied, I know that. And I’m sorry. But the way you react to Stephen…you don’t understand why I need… The way you treated him at Christmas-.”

“Oh, so this is my fault? It’s my fault that you’re running around behind my back?” Tony was finding it increasingly hard to breath, chest heaving, but Pepper was blocking the nearest kitchen chair.

“Running around? Pep, I feel like I’m being torn in half if I don’t see him.” He paused. “That came out wrong”, he said carefully, holding his hands up before she could interrupt again. “My chest hurts if I don’t see him for a week. I can’t breathe properly. It’s worse than the arc reactor was.” Tony was careful to make sure he didn’t sound like he was trying to gain sympathy. He just wanted so badly for her to understand. But he could see the fire reignite in her eyes, like someone flicking a lighter to life, her jaw set with defiance.

“You know, I’m starting to think this whole life force thing doesn’t even exist. It’s just some excuse you two made up so you can go off alone together all the fucking time! How do you think I feel, Tony? Staying at home with our daughter while you’re gallivanting around with some man? No. No way! I left that Tony Stark in the past, back when you used to be all about the parties and drinking and meaningless hookups.” Tony had to suppress the urge to sigh. They had gone over this conversation so many times, but this was the closest she had gotten to accusing him of cheating.

“For God sakes, Pepper. The life force is real, how the hell do you think he saved my life, otherwise? And Stephen’s not a hookup! We get tea together like a bunch of old biddies.” He took a breath, his chest aching, not believing that he was actually having to spell it out. “I’m not cheating on you.” 

“Why should I believe you?! How do I know you’re not just lying to me again?” She turned away for a moment, burying her face in her hands in frustration. “I’ve been patient with you and him from the start, but I have to draw a line somewhere, Tony.” Tony couldn’t help the anger boiling in his chest, cutting off his air supply even further.

“Draw a line? What the hell do you mean, draw a line? You don’t draw a line for Rhodey. You don’t need to draw a line for Happy. Why is Stephen any different?” Even as he said it, Tony knew what the difference was, but admitting that wouldn’t help his case. He was sick and tired of guiltily defending his friend, like a criminal hiding a secret stash. 

“You damn well know why Stephen’s different”, Pepper ground out between clenched molars, voice suddenly hushed. “If I’m to believe all that life force bullshit, he gave a fucking piece of himself to you, Tony.” Tony’s hand instinctively reached up to finger the pendant through his shirt, dropping it back down quickly before she noticed. “He’s not just some friend to you, is he? But he’s not healthy for you, Tony, why can’t you see that?” Her tone had turned almost pleading, but Tony wasn’t in the mood to listen. “You’re way too dependent on him.” Tony felt something in his chest snap. All the patience he’d been holding on to for nearly six months was suddenly released in a rush.

“What part of ‘I’m in excruciating physical pain when I’m not around him’ do you not understand?!” He realized he had clenched his cybernetic fist automatically, but released it as it started to ache. “Of course I’m dependent on him, he gave me a piece of his soul! I can’t just forget about that, Pepper!” He began to pace back and forth as he spoke, the alternative to walking towards her, which might have come off as challenging or threatening. “Which you do know, by the way, since you just said as much. So why can’t you understand it?”

“I’m not-.”

“It’s like you don’t even try!” Hurt showed through her eyes, though only for a second. Tony had to focus to scrounge up a scrap of remorse. 

“So, what? You’re choosing him over me?” Her voice was quieter now, ragged. Like screaming like that had hurt her throat. Tony refused to allow himself to be pulled in by her victimized puppy eyes. He swallowed the tears that were beginning to well, blurring his view of her, which helped.

“When was the last time you touched me, Pep?” He saw his wife’s brow furrow a little, and her apparent confusion hurt more than any half-baked excuse she could have fed him. 

“What?” Tony spread his arms wide, gesturing down at himself, and then up at his face.

“When are you gonna get over my scars?” She blinked at him, clearly caught off guard, her expression clouding to offended embarrassment.

“How is this even-?”

“How is this even relevant?”, Tony snapped, taking a step forward. “This is a good 40% of our issues right now, Pepper.” He grimaced, trying to catch her eye. “You can’t even look at me.” 

“Of course I can. I’m fine with your scars”, she said, voice hollow, though it quivered underneath. It took visible effort for her to meet his eyes. Tony huffed, his face pulled into a disbelieving frown. 

“Right.” He stepped forward, pointing to his right cheek. “You’re fine with this?” Pepper’s eyes danced over his face unsteadily, making a show of pretending to look at the scarred side of it. 

“Of course.” Tony nodded, though his eyes glimmered with a hurt fire.

“So you’ll touch it? You’ll kiss me? ‘Cause you haven’t, Pep, and I know we’ve been through hell, but it hurts, okay? Maybe it would be a bit better if our issues were ‘cause of something else, but this is part of it.”

“What does this have to do with Stephen?”, she deflected, and Tony swallowed, his entire body shaking as he worked himself up to what he’d been shoving to the bottom of his chest for almost a year.

“Well, Stephen can look at me. Doesn’t mind seeing my face one bit. But that’s not even my point. Rhodey can look at me, Happy can look at me, Peter can look at me, Morgan doesn’t give a rat’s ass what I look like. But you?” He gestured to her limply. “The woman who’s supposed to be with me in sickness and in health? Yeah, you’re here, but you can’t look at me, and when you do, it’s like you’re looking at a monster. Or a corpse. Something dead on the side of the road.”

“Tony”, Pepper breathed, offended more than anything. “I don’t-.”

“You do! I see you! Every day, looking at me like you’re thinking it might be easier if I had actually died! Like Stephen shouldn’t have even bothered!” 

“How can you say that?!”

“Tell me you don’t care about my scars! And my arm and my eye. They don’t bother you?”

“No”, she said, her eyes meeting his for a second before dropping again. 

“Bullshit! You can’t even look at me!” Pepper took in a deep breath, finally exploding back at him.

“Can you blame me?! Look at what that fucking suit has done to you, Tony!” 

Tony felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. That’s what this was really all about. That’s what it would always be about. His suits were always going to be the breaking point in their relationship. **_What relationship?_**, Tony asked himself, feeling like the past fifteen years had all been a lie. 

“You do realize that ‘fucking suit’ is what kept me alive this long, right? And not just because I fought aliens and shit in it. No, I mean that I would have offed myself years ago without that ‘fucking suit’! It let me feel like maybe I wasn’t such an abysmal failure of a human being, maybe I wasn’t such a fucking waste of space!” 

“I wasn’t enough to keep you alive?! I wasn’t enough for you to live for?!” God, her voice was at that pitch again. He hadn’t missed that in the past five years. 

“You weren’t _there_ for me, Pepper! I was _dying_ and you told me to _fuck_ off!” Pepper gaped at him, brows drawn together incredulously.

“Are you kidding me?! You’re bringing up the palladium poisoning?! That was almost _thirteen years_ ago!”

“Not just the palladium! Not just that. Everything from Afghanistan to the wormhole in New York, with my anxiety attacks and everything else-.”

“For everything else, you should have gotten help!”

“I know! I used the suits to cope, it wasn’t healthy, but they were all I had! They kept me sane!”

“You had me!”

“No, I didn’t! You left!”

“Because of the suits! Because of what you’ve done with them, and what they’ve done to you! Look at you!”

“Oh, fuck me!”, Tony growled, drawing a hand down his face as he spun away. “It’s always going to be that, isn’t it? You can’t make me abandon them, Pepper! It’d be like tearing my own bloody heart out! You never could have made me abandon them! Can’t you accept that?! Can’t you accept that some things are out of your control?!”

“What? You’re saying you’re still not going to give them up?”, she asked, raising an unimpressed brow, arms crossed. “Even after everything that’s happened?”

“Might as well be dead otherwise”, Tony choked out, staring her in the eyes. Usually, her looking away from his blind eye would have hurt, but now it fuelled him. 

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this”, Pepper said, throwing her hands up. “I’m going to go take a shower.” She made to storm off down the hall, but Tony stood in front of her.

“No, no! You’re not just running away from this again. We need to talk through this.” Pepper practically snarled into his face, turning and retreating into the living room, Tony trailing after her. “What?! You’re abandoning me again? Just like you always do? Leaving, because that’s easier?!” He followed her into the living room, finding her sitting in an armchair, arms crossed as she glowered up at him.

“You are just too much right now!”, she yelled back, her eyes full of resentment. 

“Oh, I’m too much? _I’m_ too much?! Am I just too much for you? With my ‘fucking suits’, and my anxiety and fucking PTSD and my fucking metal arm and scarred up face?! Am I too broken for you to handle, Pepper?!” Tony’s throat was raw as he spread his hands out to her, palms up, like a shattered offering. His heart was being torn right out of his chest. “‘Cause if I am, just say so and we can end this right now!” Regret tore through him as Pepper looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I have stayed by your side for so long. What I’ve had to put up with-!”

“What you’ve had to _put up with_?! I’m sorry you’ve been so burdened, Pepper, just _putting up_ with me! My apologies for being a big fucking pain in the ass all these years! What do you want? A fucking medal?!”

“Are you kidding me-?!”

“No! ‘Cause it seems like that’s what you want. You want validation for putting up with me! You want people to say ‘Oh, Pepper Potts, what a saint for putting up with that wreck for so long. She even married him’. But guess what?! Nothing has ever forced you to stay, you could have left if you couldn’t deal with it-.”

“I loved you, Tony!”

Tony could only stare down at her as she stared up at him, face desperate but tortured. His chest was being rent in two, inch by painful inch.

“Loved? As in past tense? Right, that’s-. Okay. That’s great, Pepper, thanks.” 

“Don’t you dare put all of this on me”, Pepper seethed quietly, arms still crossed. 

“I’m not”, Tony said lightly, hysteria setting in. “It’s all my fault, just like it always is”, he said sarcastically, a laugh trickling through his chest. His legs couldn’t hold him up any longer, so he dropped onto the sofa, face hidden in his metal hand as he chuckled again. He could feel Pepper watching him incredulously.

“What the hell are you laughing about?”, Pepper asked, her voice tired and annoyed. 

“We have a daughter”, Tony said as he looked up at her, spreading his arms wide, almost gesturing to the room around them like, _‘Look at this life we’ve built.’_ “Why’d we have a daughter if you don’t-?” He couldn’t say it. Pepper met his eyes, a thousand different layers of hurt showing through in her expression.

“I…did love you then. But after you got on that spaceship… and then once you came home - nothing’s really been the same since then.” 

“Since I lost Peter?”, Tony asked numbly, his voice wet. “Since I let my boy and half the world die? How do you think I could have come back the same after that?” Pepper sighed heavily, a tear slipping down her cheek unwarranted.

“I’ve been waiting five years to get my husband back. Five years.” Tony sighed. It was like she hadn’t even heard him. “And you finally get Peter back and everything and you’re still-.”

“What, Pep? I’m still what? Traumatized? You think a switch is gonna go off and I’ll be fixed or something?” His words were harsh, the never-ending exhaustion was still there, but Tony didn’t have the energy to yell anymore. “I’m never gonna actually be ‘fixed’, you know that, right? I might get better, bit by bit, but…I can’t change overnight. And who’s to say I’ll go back to how I was? Maybe…it’s best that I don’t.” Tony sighed heavily, pulling his hands through his hair slowly. “As much as I’m working on it…this is who I am now, how I am.”

“And that still includes the suits?”, Pepper asked, but she knew the answer.

“That’s always going to include the suits. And I think you have always known that…you just wanted to pretend I could change.”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore”, Pepper whispered, not looking at him. Tears were trickling down her face now. “It’s just…so much.” She inhaled before letting the breath out shakily. “I’m so tired of trying.”

“It’s alright”, Tony rasped, a tear dropping from his face onto the red metal of his arm, running down the curve of it before dropping onto the floor. “I don’t think I want you to try anymore.” God, since when was his heart made of lead? “‘Cause you never really have understood it, Pepper, let’s be honest. You’ve never dealt with it well. Or at all.”

“So it _is_ my fault?”, Pepper breathed, brow furrowing defensively.

“No. I’m just saying that this…doesn’t work anymore. Maybe it never did.” 

They sat in the heaviness of their silence, divided only by the coffee table, though they may as well have been a million miles away from each other. Tony thought about it and realized he’d felt closer to her when he was on the Benatar, who knows where in space, drifting about in a black abyss that wanted to swallow him whole. That might have hurt less than this. 

“Where’s Morgan?”, Tony asked. He knew Pepper wouldn’t have started yelling in the first place if their daughter was home. They had agreed to never do that to her.

“I left her at Annie’s”, Pepper said hollowly, head in her hands. She lifted her head to look at him, looking about as old as he felt. “What now?” Her voice was practically a whisper. She wanted his answer, but didn’t want it at the same time. Tony’s chest was hurting again, and he straightened up to reduce the pressure on his ribcage before realizing the pain wasn’t physical. 

“I think…I think I’m gonna spend the night at Pete’s”, he said levelly, though it felt like a rocking, storming ocean was swirling around in his chest. Complete with a little ship that was his heart. 

“Okay”, Pepper said, nodding slowly. “We’ll, um…figure things out later, then.” Tony nodded, standing, hovering for a moment before walking out of the room and up the stairs. He didn’t feel like he was in his body, just going through the motions as he packed a small overnight bag. He did a terrible job of ignoring Pepper’s engagement ring on her nightstand. He came back down and Pepper was still where he had left her, staring out the window blankly as heavy snowflakes fell. 

“I always knew it would end”, Pepper said almost serenely, though her voice was hoarse. “I thought it was going to be on that battlefield last year. I was wrong.” She turned to look at him, eyes dry, but haunted. Tony shivered, like a ghost had passed through him. 

“Yeah, well. I guess it’s your turn to rest. For real.” He hoped that she knew he was sorry, but he couldn’t bring himself to grovel anymore, not when it felt like she’d been taking a sledgehammer to his heart for the past year. “I’ll call to say goodnight to Morgan”, he said decisively, pulling his coat on and stepping out the front door. 

The drive to Queens was about two hours, giving Tony far too much time to think. 

He thought about what Pepper had said, and what he had said, and how it was all things they had fought about before, but it hadn’t seemed like such an issue until this past year. Maybe almost dying (again) had finally changed his outlook on life, like he was reformed or something? Nah, he’d had so many brushes with death, why would this time be any different? 

**_Well, you were actually technically dead this time_**, his brain supplied, but he shook it off. Sure, okay. He’d died and been brought back to life, big deal. The most jarring part about that had been what Stephen had sacrificed to save him, that he saw him worthy of-.

_Oh._

_Stephen._

Stephen was the thing that was different. 

Stephen had shown him with actions what no one had ever even bothered to say with words.

_You’re worth something. No. You’re worth everything. I’d risk my life for you because you’re worth it. Not because you’re Iron Man, or because we need you alive to save the rest of us, but because you’re worth it as a person. Not even as Tony Stark, but just as Tony._

That last part hadn’t been apparent at first. It had taken almost a year for Stephen to convince him that he was here for Tony. Not Tony Stark, not Iron Man. There was no greater purpose for the sorcerer to risk his own life, using a dangerous, lethal type of magic in order to save Tony’s, he’d just done it.

“But why’d you do it, Strange?”, Tony muttered to himself in the silence of his Audi. “Why’d you give a damn about me back then, you crazy bastard?”

They hadn’t really had a chance to talk about it, not after his breakdown in Central Park. God, that was embarrassing. But Tony couldn’t help but remember how vulnerable he’d felt, and then how safe. But with all that had been going on, with Pepper insisting Tony stay away from Stephen, and then the busy, awkward, hurtful time at Christmas, he and the sorcerer hadn’t revisited what had been nagging at the back of Tony’s mind since the start. 

**_If he’ll even talk to me now_**, Tony thought. After what had happened earlier today, with him running out after the pendant transfer, he wasn’t sure where things sat between him and the sorcerer. He couldn’t think about it too much without his chest hurting and found himself fingering the tiny Eye of Agomotto at his collarbone.

“One thing at a time”, he breathed to himself, making himself head straight towards Queens, instead of making the turn to Greenwich Village. “He doesn't wanna see you right now.” 

Then, only twenty minutes from the Parker (well, and Hogan) apartment, he made the mistake of thinking about Morgan, and how the events of today would affect her. What if Pepper demanded full custody? What if he never got to see his little girl again? Look at him, he was a mess, physically and mentally. If she wanted it, Pepper could get full custody easily. Would she? No, she’d never do that to him, not after-. Okay, maybe she would. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Fuck._

It was almost seven o’clock by the time Tony got there, having to park down the street from the new apartment. Cold winter air made this lungs hurt as he stepped out of the car, overnight bag slung over his shoulder because both hands were aching. Suddenly, his wedding band felt very cold on his finger and he had the urge to rip it out, throw it in the street. He didn’t, of course, just continued walking calmly like a normal person who felt like their skin was burning off. 

At the door of the second floor apartment (May had refused to let him buy them a townhouse), Tony raised his right hand, decided against it, and knocked with his left. Happy answered the door, because of course he did, and Tony had to suppress the urge to fall into his arms. 

“Tony? What are you doing here?”

“I’m…” Fuck, what was he doing here? He hadn’t called ahead or anything. 

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“For God’s sake, Harold, just let him in!”, May called and Happy obliged, allowing Tony to step into the apartment.

**_Who the fuck is Harold?_**, Tony’s grief-scrambled brain wondered, faltering when he saw Peter.

_Peter. Oh, my god. His kid…_

He couldn’t see anything, not bothering to make out the details as he walked into the kitchen where Peter was standing, meeting him in a hug while the teen looked to Happy in worried confusion.

Gratefully, he felt Peter’s slim arms wrap around him automatically, always surprised by the boy’s strength. Tony always forgot that he wasn't an innocent fifteen-year-old anymore. He’d been through hell and back and all because of Tony. The tears slipped out on their own accord, the tears left over from his fight with Pepper, the tears that he’d held back during the drive here. He hung onto his kid, silently crying in his shoulder, holding onto him like he was the last person on Earth. He felt a soft hand rub his back, uncertain and gentle, but desperate to be comforting.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark”, Peter said gently. “It’s okay.”

_Mr. Stark…? I don’t feel so good…_

** _No._ **

Tony flinched, winding his fingers into the sweater Peter was wearing.

“Don’t call me that anymore”, he whispered ferociously, softly against the teen’s shoulder. “Please. You can call me Tony or Dad, I don’t care. Pick one. Just…please, don’t call me that.” He felt Peter still, his breath hitched a little before relaxing under Tony’s embrace again. Peter just nodded in understanding, holding him tighter, if that were possible. 

“Yeah, okay. Of course, I won’t call you that anymore”, he muttered. He then looked between May and Happy for help. He wasn’t used to being the adult. He needed help with this. He’d seen Tony in a bad state before, in the past year more than ever, but this was different somehow. 

Tony felt another soft hand on his shoulder, prying him from Peter’s grip slowly. He turned, saw May through tear-blurred eyes, allowing her gentle arm around his shoulders to guide him to the couch, dropping onto it with her like a lead weight. He looked around, thumbing the tears out of his eyes quickly. He saw that the table in the kitchen was set, half-finished food still sitting on plates.

“Oh, shit. May, I’m sorry. I should have called. You guys were having dinner, and I-.” May just held a finger up to silence him, arm still around his shoulders.

“Tony. Don’t even start.” Her words were gentle, but commanding. “You’re always welcome here, it does’t matter what time it is or what we’re doing. You know that”, she chided softly, brushing the tears off his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“Here, Mr. St-.” Peter stopped himself as he held out box of tissues and a glass of water, settling on the couch beside Tony, who received them with a grateful grin. “Sorry, that’ll take a while to get used to.”

“No, it’s okay”, Tony said, sighing as he met the heart-breaking worry in Peter’s big, brown eyes. “I’m just…dealing with some stuff.” Peter nodded slowly, realizing that he might not be calling his mentor anything for a while, at least until he got used to thinking of him as Tony. Thinking of him as ‘Dad’ had never been a problem, but he wasn’t sure if the man had actually meant it when he told Peter he could call him that.

“Is there anything else I can do?”, Peter asked, catching May’s smile at him, her arm still around Tony. Happy continued to hover at the end of the sofa as he tried to gauge his oldest friend’s mental state. Peter’s enhanced vision caught Tony’s good hand when it twitched, the look in his eyes saying he wanted to ask for another hug, but also didn’t want to be too much. Peter silently scooted closer to him on the couch and wrapped his arms around Tony, his mentor suddenly feeling small and delicate in his embrace. He let Tony rest his head on his shoulder like he had for him hundreds of times, breathing in the scent of his heartache. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”, Happy asked quietly and Tony silently glanced between him and May. Everyone took the silent cue, May standing with her arm around Peter’s shoulders as the two walked back into the kitchen. They resumed their spots at the kitchen table while Happy took Peter’s place on the couch beside Tony. 

“You don’t mind?”, Tony asked, desperately trying to keep the well of tears from overflowing. 

“‘Course not, boss”, Happy replied softly, giving Tony a patient look. 

“I fucked up, Hap”, Tony breathed, and then told him everything. He kept his voice low, though he knew May and especially Peter could still hear him. He didn’t care. They were as much his family as Happy was, there were no secrets to hide here. He told Happy everything. He told him about Stephen and the pendants and the lie about that which Pepper discovered. He told him about the fight with Pepper, some of the hurtful things that were said, trying to make sense of it all in his own head as he went over it. He told him about the conclusion they had come to, quiet and broken in their living room, admitting that this was the end. When he was done, Happy listening dutifully all the way through, he took a deep breath, chest aching from suppressing his tears.

“I can’t lose Morgan”, he said, and the tears finally broke free, trailing down the lines and crevices of his face. “I can’t lose my baby girl, Happy.” He broke down again, eyes covered with one hand as Happy wrapped a big arm around his shoulders, pulling his friend against his side, trying to absorb some of his pain if he could.

“You’re not gonna lose her”, Happy soothed, voice hushed. “Pepper wouldn’t do that.” Tony looked up at him.

“You don’t think? We’re not how we used to be. What if she wants to get back at me for having Morgan in the first place? She never wanted kids, I was the one who wanted kids. What if she-?”

“Hey, hey. You’re going to drive yourself crazy with hypotheticals”, Happy said gently. “You’ve dealt with a lot today. I think what you need right now is some sleep.” May was to her feet in an instant.

“I can make up the guest bed”, she offered, her tone careful. “If you want to stay, Tony. You’re more than welcome.” Tony looked up at her, focusing on making his expression as grateful as he could. How did faces work again? He just felt numb.

“Thank you. I…appreciate you guys letting me crash here.”

“Don’t worry about it”, Happy said, giving his shoulders another gentle squeeze.

“I’ll kill my back if I sleep on that mattress, though”, he rasped, guilty. “I think I’ll stick with the sofa.” 

“It’s comfy enough”, Peter supplied from his chair. “I nap on it all the time.”

“You mean you take up the entire goddamn thing in the middle of the day”, Happy grumbled good-naturedly. 

“Says the man who hogs it every Saturday!”, Peter quipped back, incredulous. Tony couldn’t help but feel his heart lighten slightly at their banter.

“Alright, you two”, May said, stepping in with a patient look. “Peter, why don’t you grab some blankets from the closet?” 

Peter went and grabbed three blankets from the hall closet, more than Tony would need, but he didn’t say anything to deter the teen. They spent the next hour and a half talking on the sofa, wrapped up in blankets while Peter told him everything that was going on at school. May and Happy cleaned up after dinner before going into their bedroom to watch tv. Tony was grateful for the distraction, working hard to keep his mind from wandering as he focused on Peter’s animated story-telling. His body was shutting down, though, exhausted from the yelling and the crying and the thinking about everything. All the lights were off except for the lamp behind Tony, whose eyes were drooping shut in the low light, even sitting up as he was. Peter noticed, and gave Tony an amused grin as he began to nod off in the middle of a particularly thrilling recounting of a chemistry experiment gone wrong. 

“Am I that boring?”, Peter teased. 

“Sorry, kid. Just tired.”

“Go to sleep, then”, Peter suggested, disentangling his legs and standing up to tuck Tony’s blanket around him further, fluffing the good pillow behind his head. “Are you warm enough? Happy refuses to put the heat above 65 degrees.”

Happy’s a pain in the ass”, Tony muttered affectionately, giving Peter a sleepy grin as the teen sat on the edge of the sofa beside him. Peter laughed at his response, his eyes lighting up like a little kid, and Tony was grateful that they could still do that. “You take good care of your old man”, Tony mumbled, barely coherent as he held his hand out. Peter just ducked his head, putting his hand in Tony’s and giving it a comforting squeeze in his grip. 

“I think I’m gonna go to bed, too”, Peter admitted. Tony raised a skeptical brow.

“Before 1:00 a.m.? Not likely.”

“Hey, I did Christmas night! I was in bed by 10:00 with the rest of you old folks”, Peter retorted. “I always sleep like a log at the cabin”, he said, a little more quietly. Tony could see the uncertainty flicker through his eyes. 

“Hey. What’s happening with me and Pepper, that’s not gonna change anything. You’re still my kid, you’re always welcome at the cabin. You understand?” Peter nodded gratefully, a little bashful that Tony could read him so easily. “Good. C’mere. Give me a hug, Underoos.” Peter dropped onto his chest easily, gently, like a small child with his arms around Tony’s neck. “Sorry for being a mess earlier”, Tony added, but Peter just smiled as he sat up again. 

“It’s not like I haven’t cried and snotted all over you before, so I guess we’re even now.” Tony laughed a little, leaning forward to plant a kiss on the teen’s forehead. 

“You’re the best, kid.” Peter laughed as he stood, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight”, he said as he began to walk off towards his room.

“Love you, Underoos”, Tony muttered, heart thudding pleasantly with warmth at the quietly shy, over-joyed look on Peter’s face as he mumbled a response.

“Love you, too.” 

Yeah, he could get used to saying that. 

Tony was almost glad once he heard Peter’s bedroom door close, letting the tears roll down his face as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table. With trembling hands, he called Pepper’s phone through the shortcut on his home screen, the photo he had of her in his contacts staring back at him like a ghost.

“Daddy?” Tony’s heart jumped as he heard his daughter’s voice, trying to suppress the tears flowing down his face.

“Hey, Moguna”, he croaked, trying to sound as normal as possible. “How’s my girl?”

“Good. Where’s Daddy?”

“Mommy didn’t-? Uh, Daddy’s just helping Uncle Happy with something. I’ll be home tomorrow morning when you wake up. Is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Did you have fun at Annie’s house today?”

“Yeah! We made so many snow mens! Like five, Daddy!” 

Tony’s heart was reminded how to beat normally as he listened to his daughter recount her day with all of her usual enthusiasm. He asked questions when warranted, adding the occasional ‘oh?’ or ‘hmm’, as required, but all the while wondering how he was supposed to break her heart. Half of her friends’ parents were divorced, so she knew what it was, but thinking about the hurt look in her eyes when he would have to tell her was almost too much. 

They said their goodnight routine, “Love you tons”, “Love you three thousand”, and Tony was grateful when she hung up the phone instead of handing it to Pepper. 

Tony twisted around to turn off the light behind his head, settling down on the pillows before picking his phone up again. Someone else deserved to hear from him tonight. He pulled up one of the other five contacts he had set to speed dial on his home screen, this contact picture making his heart twist differently. It was a selfie he had snapped one morning when he and Stephen were out for coffee, the sorcerer giving him an unimpressed peace sign in the background, at Tony’s request of course.

Tony fingered his pendant, the gold metal warm from his body heat as he focused on the healing energy flowing from it. It took him a moment of thought, thumbs hovering as his heart pounded, but he finally typed a message into the text field. 

_Sorry about today. I have stuff I need to figure out, but I know I want you in my life. Lunch sometime this week?_

His heart travelled into his throat and stayed there as he stared at the illuminated screen. It promptly dropped into his stomach when the typing bubble popped up. 

_No worries, douchebag <3 Wednesday works for me. Same time as today? ;)_

Tony chuckled to himself, heart repositioning itself back in his chest as he typed.

_Asshole. Sure. Regular cafe?_

_Of course. You okay?_

Tony paused, inclined to answer this question truthfully for once.

_I will be. Goodnight, Steph._

_Goodnight <3_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was brought to my attention that the part at the end of the chapter where Stephen starts using sassy emojis and hearts out of nowhere is a little confusing, so I thought I'd explain it a bit.  
Stephen has no clue what happened. He doesn't even know that Pepper and Tony have split up, so he isn't acting on his feelings exactly. But after how Tony reacted in the meditation room, Stephen saw (and felt) him finally reciprocating his attraction a little, though Tony didn't act on it. Then Tony ran out and Stephen was terrified of the rejection, terrified that he'd just scared him off for good. So, when Tony texted him after that, reaching out to him after running out of the Sanctum, Stephen was more than relieved. He uses the heart emojis mostly to reassure Tony that he's forgiven for running out. Also, as a socially-inept person (like myself) he likes to use emojis as a crutch while texting in highly-emotional conversations.


	14. Please Don't Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan learns about her parents’ divorce, but they find out she’s more worried about other things. Tony takes a new step in therapy, and asks Stephen to come along. A rift is forming in Tony and Stephen’s friendship in the wake of Tony’s marriage ending, so Rhodey decides to take matters into his own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, listen to Sasha Sloan’s “Older” while reading Morgan’s POV scene and you might just cry. I may have been projecting onto Morgan a lot during her POV scene and it made me bawl my eyes out lmao Don’t get me wrong, though, divorce was the best thing that ever happened to my family.
> 
> Wong’s a little shit. Pass it on. He also wishes Stephen would quit pining already.
> 
> Tony’s therapist, Joan, is named after Stan Lee’s daughter. And, yeah, if Tony subconsciously really trusts black women after his time in the Wakandan hospital, then that very well may be reflected in Joan.
> 
> And the redhead girl being named Susan is a reference to Bobert’s wife btw

How do you explain divorce to a five-year-old?

It turns out that you don’t. 

According to the extensive research Tony had Friday do, you can’t explain it, you just have to tell them, as simply as you possibly can. Every single article and webpage he had pulled up and read over said the same thing: Remind your kid that you and your partner both love them, and to avoid placing blame. And it was this conversation that Tony was dreading for an entire week after his and Pepper’s argument. The argument. It felt wrong to call it a fight. A fight is what happened when he put his armour on, not when he and Pepper yelled at each other. But even worse was the thought of having to tell his little girl that her world was going to fall apart, that her loving parents weren’t so loving to each other after all, and that everything was going to change. He thought about it while he and Pepper awkwardly, numbly hashed out the details of their separation, lawyer at hand, of course. He dwelled over it while signing their separation agreement, signature shaky with nerves and his cybernetic hand aching from the change in weather. 

Coming home the morning after their argument had been one of the hardest things Tony had ever done. Stepping through the front door of the cabin felt like stepping back into the crushing force of their words from the day before, suppressing the queasiness in his stomach as he looked at the living room, where it had all ended. Looking around the room, Tony realized that there had been a lot of pain in this house. 

Losing Peter and half the world, the aftermath where Tony was a ghost of himself, blaming himself, lost in grief for the son he’d held in his arms, but not the way he’d imagined it. Then his Snap happened like a living nightmare and all of the disjointed, treacherous recovery time after that, days and weeks of excruciating pain and nightmares. Tony had to stop then, swallowing tears back. But he didn’t want this cabin to remind him only of the bad times, because so many precious moments had happened here too. Like bringing Morgan home for the first time, early mornings holding her in the crook of his arm while they sat on the porch swing. Her first steps, her third birthday when he, Happy, and Rhodey had strung up hundreds of fake butterflies to the ceiling, and she had chased them around giggling, the paper butterflies dancing about on their strings from the wind of the ceiling fan. Then the more recent memories, like Peter meeting Morgan, their first dinner with Happy and the Parkers over, seeing May and Happy fall into each other’s lives over the past year. Stephen sliding into place like he was always meant to be there, Morgan latching onto him, the confusion and relief of finding a balance while sharing two halves of one life force, getting to know that quiet, bewildering, gentle man, and playing piano with him in the back den at Christmas. And something, something lodged under his breastbone right under his arc reactor scar, told Tony that there was potential for so much more happiness in these walls, happiness that would drive out the pain. 

Tony had decided in that moment that he would do anything to keep the cabin. 

*****

Morgan thought she was in trouble when her parents said they wanted to talk with her.

She had been playing in her room (Spider Man was protecting the city from a herbivorous dinosaur and a pink cat) when Mommy had asked her to come downstairs into the living room. Morgan collected her Spider Man plushie in her arms (the one from Petey) and told the evil dinosaur and cat that they hadn’t won yet. Spider Man would be back to save everyone. Morgan walked down the stairs, keeping one hand on the rail like Daddy always asked her to, even though that meant she had to walk slower.

Morgan walked into the living room where Daddy was sitting on the coffee table (Mommy didn’t like when he did that). But Mommy wasn’t paying attention to Daddy, she was looking at Morgan with a sad face, and Morgan decided that maybe she wasn’t in trouble for the cupcake she had snuck up to her room earlier. 

“Mommy, what’s wrong?”, Morgan asked, concerned as she walked over and hugged her mom’s legs. She felt the familiar soft hand on her shoulder, though it was shaking a a little.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie. We just want to talk to you about something, okay?” Morgan nodded, letting herself be lead to the sofa, clambering up on to it and looking between her parents, worried. She couldn’t remember anything else bad that she had done, expect maybe for hiding some peas under her plate last night at dinner. Daddy brushed her hair out of her eyes (Mommy kept saying she needed a haircut, but Morgan didn’t want one. She liked her hair long.) and smiled at her, his eyes looking as sad as his smile. Morgan knew he was trying to comfort her, but she didn’t like when he was sad. Daddy had been sad a lot lately.

“Don’t worry, Moguna”, he said, his voice gentle. Gentle like his hands, even his metal one. “You’re not in trouble.”

Oh, good. But the worry didn’t stop itself from knotting in her tummy, like when she was first learning to tie her shoes. It felt like there was a mess of shoelaces in her stomach and Morgan didn’t like that feeling. Daddy told her it was okay to feel like that, to tell him or Mommy when she felt scared or uncomfortable. This was different. This was worry like when Daddy stayed in bed all day and Mommy got really quiet, sitting at the kitchen table for a long time, and letting her coffee get cold while she held her head in her hands. Morgan hated this feeling.

Mommy sat on the sofa beside her, turning so that Morgan could see her face, and Morgan could see her take a breath, deep and slow like she was trying not to be angry. No, it was more like a getting-ready breath, like she was about to do something hard or scary. Mommy had taught Morgan about getting-ready breaths when she went to daycare for the first time, nervous about all the new kids she would meet there. What if they were mean to her? But Daddy had told her to be brave, so she told herself to be brave like Daddy, imagining that she was wearing armour like his, big and strong. That had made it easier.

“Morgan, you know we love you very much, right?” Morgan nodded, glad to see her dad smile a little. “And that’s never going to change, okay? No matter what happens.”

“What’s happening?”, Morgan asked quickly. Her heart was pounding too quickly all of a sudden, making her chest feel funny. She pressed her Spider Man plush to her chest, hoping that would help. The last time her parents had sat Morgan down like this, Daddy had told her he had to go to work, to help his old friends do something very important. The next time Morgan saw him, he had been in a hospital bed, covered in so many bandages she could barely see him. Mommy hadn’t wanted to let Morgan see him then, but she had been determined. She needed to make sure he was okay, to see that he was okay with her own eyes. No one’s words of promises would have been enough for her. Then it had taken so long for Daddy to even get out of bed. Mommy said he was just tired because it took a lot of energy for him to get better, but Morgan didn't believe her. She knew her dad was in pain. She knew how much pain he had been in since he came back from his very important job. She knew he had spent days in bed, hurting too much. She knew it made him sad, crying in his bed sometimes, though he tried to hide it from Morgan. She wished they wouldn’t hide things from her sometimes. 

“You know what divorce is, right, Morgan?”, her mom asked, and Morgan nodded. Annie’s parents had done a divorce and Annie had been sad for days. Even making cupcakes together hadn’t cheered her friend up. So, Morgan knew what divorce was. Her mom had said it was when a Mommy and a Daddy didn’t love each other anymore, but they still loved their kid. That sounded really sad to Morgan, especially when she hadn’t known how to make Annie feel better, no matter what she tried. Morgan knew what divorce was, but that didn’t mean she understood it.

“Well”, her dad said slowly, and Morgan looked at him, waiting for his words. He looked like he was going to cry, and Morgan wanted to hug him, but he kept talking. “Your mommy and I…have decided to get a divorce. We’ve decided that…we don’t love each other as much as we did when you were born. Do you understand?” Morgan nodded a bit, but she didn’t really understand. She thought that her Mommy and Daddy loved each other a lot. She thought that they would love each other forever. “But, we still love you very much, okay? Remember? That’s never going to change.”

“Yes”, her mom agreed. “Your dad and I will always love you. It doesn’t matter what else happens.”

“Is something else going to happen?”, Morgan asked, looking between them. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt. She didn’t want to ask this question, but she had to know. Daddy frowned as he put his hand on her arm, head tilted a little like when he was confused.

“What do you mean, Moguna? What do you think’s going to happen?” Morgan looked down, pressing her face on the top of her Spider Man plush’s head. She felt like crying, but didn’t want her daddy to feel bad. He was sad a lot, so she didn’t want to make him even more sad. 

“Will Daddy have to go back to work again?” Her dad’s eyes went really big, the brown one looking really surprised and sad. Morgan though it was a little funny that his blue eye didn’t show feelings the same, but she didn’t mind. 

“No. No, Morgan. Oh, god…I promise, I won’t ever have to go to work again.” He slid off the coffee table, kneeling on the floor in front of her, holding her hands in his. “Is that what you’re worried about, sweetheart?” Morgan just nodded. She knew her voice would sound like crying if she talked. “Oh, baby, no. I’m not gonna get hurt again. I’m not going to go to work again. Okay?” Morgan looked at his brown eye and knew he was telling the truth.

“Okay.”

“Good girl”, Daddy said, kissing her forehead, his chin hair tickling her. 

“Do you have any questions about what Daddy and I just told you?”, Mommy asked, looking worried. Mommy always looked worried now and Morgan wished she would go back to normal. She wished Daddy had never gone to work and gotten hurt. Then he wouldn’t be so sad and Mommy wouldn’t be so worried. Morgan had decided she didn’t like Daddy’s old friends very much. 

“Where will I live?”, Morgan asked, looking between them. 

“You’ll still live here”, Daddy said, still holding her hands. She held them back, feeling the warm skin and cool metal in her hands. Maybe he needed to have his hands held more than she did. “But Mommy is going to have a new house in the city, kinda near where Petey lives, and you’ll go live there sometimes, too.”

“Mommy will live at her new house? Not at home anymore?”

“That’s right. Mommy and Daddy aren’t going to live together anymore. That’s part of what getting divorced means.”

“Okay”, Morgan said. That part made sense to her, at least. 

“And don’t ever think it’s your fault that Daddy and I are getting divorced”, her mom added. “We won’t live together anymore, but that’s okay, because we’re still your Mommy and Daddy.”

“Right”, Daddy agreed, and kissed the tip of Morgan’s nose. “That’s never going to change.” 

Morgan nodded, not wanting to worry them. They both already looked so worried. 

“Will I still have my room and all my toys?” She had to ask. Morgan really liked her room. It was purple with glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. And all of her toys had special spots on the wood shelves her dad had built. 

“Of course”, Daddy replied gently. “You’ll still have your room here, and you’ll have a room at Mommy’s house too. We can decorate it how ever you want to. Does that sound okay?”

Morgan nodded again, but she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It was a lot to think about. She remembered how sad Annie had been when her parents got divorced. Morgan wasn’t that sad, and she understood everything her parents had told her, she just wasn’t sure why it was happening. She had thought that Mommy and Daddy still loved each other. Then she remembered how sad Daddy had been lately, and not because of his metal arm anymore, because that was getting so much better. He was sad even when his arm didn’t hurt, even when he was with Mommy. She thought about when he was happy, like when everyone was over for Christmas. Petey made him happy, and so did Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy. Morgan had been happy too, especially because of her present from Doc. This made her think of how happy Daddy was when he was with Doc too, how his smile was the biggest it had been since he got hurt at work. Daddy was usually sad at home, except for when he was playing with her or when Doc came over. Morgan realized that maybe her dad loved Doc now. Morgan knew that she did, and not just because of her star snow globe. People thought he looked tall and scary, but Doc was actually gentle and kind and he made her laugh. He was really funny and Levi really liked her, too. She decided that she would be okay if her dad loved Doc now, as long as she still had her mom too.

“Can I have a hug?”, Morgan said quietly and her dad smiled at her.

“Of course, Moguna.” He wrapped his arms around her and Morgan just laid her head on his shoulder, feeling safe in his big arms. She thought that maybe he had been scared she would be mad at him and Mommy for getting divorced. But she couldn’t be mad when she loved them so much, especially if maybe Daddy would be happier now. 

“I love you three thousand”, she whispered beside his ear, one cheek pressed against his soft sweater. Her dad pulled back, smiling again, and his brown eye sparkled like when he did a real smile.

“Well, I love you five thousand, then. What do you think about that?”

“That’s a lot”, Morgan giggled, leaning her forehead on his shoulder again. She didn’t want to worry about Daddy being sad anymore. She lifted her head, wondering if Mommy was still sad too. She looked sad, but not as angry as she sometimes did. Morgan pulled back from her dad’s hug, crawling into her mom’s lap and wrapping her arms around her, feeling safe as she felt her gentle arms hold her tight and smelled her perfume. “Are you sad, Mommy?” Her mom looked down at her, her eyes full of love and a little bit of sadness underneath.

“No, baby. I’ll be okay. I think this is a good change so that we’ll all be a lot happier. Does that sound good?”

“Yep.”

“You can always ask us whatever you want”, her dad said. “If there’s anything you don’t understand about the divorce, or anything else, just ask.”

“Okay”, Morgan agreed, snuggling into her mom’s chest. She had a question, but she was going to ask Daddy later, because she didn’t want to make Mommy sad. It was a question that she wouldn’t get the chance to ask, and then wouldn’t have to ask as the answer became clear all on its own. Her question for her dad was if he loved Doc now, like he loved Mommy, but she was pretty sure she knew the answer. And Daddy always said that she was pretty smart. 

*****

“What in the Vishanti’s name are you wearing, Stephen?”

Stephen sighed heavily as he finished pouring his cup of tea. First Tony, now Wong. He was getting sick of people criticizing his clothing choices, as unconventional as they may be.

“What do you mean?”, he asked, turning to face his friend who had just walked into the second floor kitchenette. 

“That”, Wong said accusingly, pointing at the offending garment of clothing. To Stephen’s surprise, it wasn't the blue paisley harlem pants that Wong had an issue with.

“It’s a Christmas gift from Peter. And his aunt”, he added, looking down at his “I’m the strange one in the family” hoodie.

“Stark’s kid?”

Stephen frowned. Wong knew damn well who Peter was, he was just trying to make a point. Stephen had never told the other sorcerer about the possibilities he’d seen where Peter had been so much more than ‘Stark’s kid’, but he didn’t need to. He knew the other sorcerer could see it in his eyes every time Stephen looked at that kid, like he’d move Earth and time to keep him happy and safe. 

“You’re getting attached”, was Wong’s only response to Stephen’s silence. Stephen scoffed.

“I think I’m a little past ‘getting attached’.”

“That’s what I’m worried about”, his friend admitted. “You’re heart’s far bigger and more delicate than most people realize, Stephen, especially you.” Stephen turned his lip up in a grimace.

“I think I can handle my heart on my own, Wong. Thanks, though.”

“And we know it’s not just Peter you have to worry about getting attached to.”

“Enough, Wong”, Stephen warned. He was saved by the bell, in a sense, as his phone rang in his pocket.

“Speak of the devil”, Wong said dryly as he walked to the stove to make himself a cup of tea. 

“Stop it”, Stephen snapped as he dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen.

“Stark?”, Wong asked, an absolute shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Shut up”, Stephen growled, putting the phone to his ear. “Hi, Tony.” Stephen had to leave the kitchen so he could hear Tony over Wong’s raucous laughter. 

“What’s with Wong?”, Tony asked, concerned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh.”

“Oh, he just finds himself to be quite the comedian today. Anyway, what’s going on with you?” Stephen could practically hear Tony’s hesitation before he answered.

“I’ve kinda got an odd request for you, Steph.”

“Really? I deal with inter-dimensional beings and mess with the space-time continuum on a weekly basis, and you’re worried about asking me something because it might be a little odd?”

“Fair enough”, Tony chuckled. “So, you know about Joan, right?” Tony had mentioned Joan plenty of times. She was his therapist as of last August, apparently a miracle-worker, and a really great baker to boot. Tony blamed her for the ten pounds he had gained in the past few months

“Of course.” 

“Alright, so, she mentioned this type of therapy she does which she thought might be really good for me to try, except I don’t really want to go alone. It’s…kinda out of my comfort zone, to say the least.”

“Sounds alright so far”, Stephen prompted gently.

“Yeah, it should be fine. I asked Rhodey, but he’s busy during the next session and Happy wouldn’t be caught dead going there. And I don’t really want to put Peter through-.”

“What is it, Tony?” He heard Tony inhale sharply on the other end of the line.

“Art therapy.” He paused, waiting for Stephen’s reaction.

“Art therapy?”, Stephen asked.

“Art therapy”, Tony clarified. “There’s an open group session on Tuesday that Joan thinks would be more productive than a solo session. She runs it and it’s open to anyone, so she said I could bring someone along if I wanted.”

“I’d be happy to come”, Stephen said quickly. Because of course he would be there for Tony, even if the request _was_ a little odd.

“You sure? I usually wouldn't have agreed, but Joan wanted to mix things up with everything that’s been going on lately-.”

“What’s that exactly?”, Stephen asked, feeling guilty for not knowing exactly what Tony was referring to. 

“Oh, uh…you know. Just…the switch in my physio program, getting back into exercising, all that kind of stuff. It’s hard getting back into it.”

“Sure, of course”, Stephen said, embarrassed. 

“Right, so…you’re sure?”

“Positive. As long as we don’t have to group share our feelings, I think I’ll be okay.” Tony’s laugh on the other end of the line was like music, making Stephen’s heart soar and a smile spread across his face.

“Don’t worry, you’re a first-timer. We’ll go easy on you.” 

“Thank goodness.”

They hashed out the details, planning to meet up at the Tuesday session and Stephen hung up with a giddy grin stuck on his face. It fell quickly, though, when he caught Wong watching him from the reading nook, the other sorcerer’s eyebrows raised as he sipped his tea smugly.

“Piss off”, Stephen snapped half-heartedly, heading towards his room so he could bask in the afterglow of his conversation with Tony in peace. 

*****

Stephen had never been so intimidated by a community centre.

Here he was, the Sorcerer Supreme, guardian of time and all things mystic, freezing his ass off in the snow because he was too nervous to go in by himself. The building, Bethel Woods Centre for the Arts, was only twenty minutes from Tony’s cabin, tucked away off all the main highways and roads. It was small and rather unimpressive, surrounded by a large field bordered by trees. It reminded Stephen a lot of the community centre in his hometown as a kid. That building had offered refuge many times, like that time his brother and a bunch of the other older boys from school had-. **_Nope. Bad idea. Not going down that path. Avoid that train of thought, Stephen._**

Stephen sighed in relief when he heard an Audi’s engine revving well before it came into view, the familiar speck of red appearing from down the road, ripping into the parking lot which was thankfully mostly empty. He could feel their bond even before Tony stepped out of the car, and Stephen reached up under his red scarf almost subconsciously to place shaking fingertips on his arc reactor pendant. 

“I see you’re enjoying driving again”, Stephen called, receiving a huge, childish grin from Tony, his eyes sparkling as he folded his shades and hung them on the neck of his shirt.

“Are you kidding, Doc? The only thing that beats it is flying in the armour! I’ve had everyone carting me around for almost a year. Not to sound ungrateful, but it’s good to finally have some freedom again.” Tony frowned as he got closer, noticing how the sorcerer was shivering. “Have you been standing here? Why didn’t you go inside?”

“I wanted to wait for you”, Stephen muttered, following Tony to the front door.

“Big chicken”, Tony teased, elbowing him gently. 

“You’re one to talk”, Stephen quipped back, caught off guard as Tony opened the door for him, inclining his head. “You had to ask me to come finger-painting with you.”

“Hey! I thought we agreed no jokes about the art therapy”, Tony gasped.

“When did we agree on that?” Tony frowned as he unzipped his coat in the warmth of the community centre.

“Hmm, must’ve been Rhodey that agreed to that.” 

“Glad to be so memorable”, Stephen said dryly, making a show of acting put-off. 

“Aw, don’t worry. You’re special, Doc”, Tony assured with a teasing grin, looping one arm around the sorcerer’s shoulders. Stephen just smiled nervously, heart pounding in his ears, grateful when he spotted a flyer taped to the wall, pointing them in the right direction.

“I think we’re this way”, Stephen coughed, and Tony’s arm dropped from around his shoulders. A rush of cold air replaced the other man’s warm grip and Stephen’s shivered a little with the absence. He couldn’t help but think of the last time they’d been in physical contact, and how badly it had gone; Tony rushing out of the mediation room, obviously flustered and uncomfortable. Stephen had no intention to replicate that kind of situation. Except Tony had texted him that same night, hadn’t he? He’d also invited him to this art therapy thing, but only as a last resort, as he’d explained on the phone. But then Tony had just been the one to initiate physical contact for the first time since the day in the mediation room, putting his arm around him like they had been friends all their lives. Stephen’s head was practically spinning with all the mixed signals.

The second floor studio was empty, once they finally found it, save for a woman rustling around in a supplies cabinet near the back window. Large easels were set up with canvases in a semicircle, facing the window which overlooked the snow-covered corn field which had jolted Stephen into melancholy childhood memories. 

“Hey, Joan!”, Tony called as they walked in, waving to the woman who greeted them with a smile once she had pulled a plastic tub out of the cabinet.

“Hello, Tony”, she greeted evenly, but pleasantly as she walked to meet them. Stephen could see immediately why Tony had chosen her, even without seeing her professional practices. She was a large black woman, braided hair drawn up into a sort of bun, a scarf wrapped around her shoulders, adding to her authoritative grace. She seemed like the no-bullshit type, down to earth, but fast-witted enough to match Tony quip for quip, and with motherly undertones which left you feeling soothed and calm in her presence. She must have been doing wonders with Tony. 

“This is some ritzy loft you have here. You’re gonna breed a whole new swath of mentally deranged Picassos in here”, Tony snarked, receiving a calm eyebrow raise in turn.

“You haven’t introduced me to your friend yet”, Joan reminded him patiently, ignoring the jab at her profession and the dusty, unimpressive room. 

“Oh, yeah, this is Steph. He’s - well, I’ve told you about him.” Stephen tried to hide his surprise as he reached forward and shook Joan’s hand. Tony had mentioned him in therapy? **_Of course he has, you idiot,_** the voice in his head said. **_You saved his life after an extremely traumatic event, of course he mentioned you in therapy. _**

“Stephen”, the sorcerer corrected gently with a grin. 

“I’m glad Tony brought you”, Joan smiled back. “He was nervous about coming on his own.” Oh, okay, so she was really blunt too. That could either be really good or really bad. Stephen could only hope that she wasn’t too perceptive, if she hadn’t already figured out how head-over-heels in love Stephen was with her client. 

“No offence, Joan, but shut up, please”, Tony grinned sweetly, then tried to divert the conversation. “Can we help you set up, or-?”

“No, thank you. You two go take a seat, get a feel for the space. Everyone else should be here shortly.” Tony and Stephen complied to her suggestion, mostly because it didn’t feel like there was any alternative. There was obviously no arguing with this woman, though she also seemed reasonable and willing to listen to Tony’s side-winding, back-tracking anecdotes. 

The two men each claimed an easel beside each other, perched on their stool placed in front of their respective canvases. They shared whispered quips, Tony saying the only feel for the space he was getting was potential asthma. They watched as other participants trickled into the room, some in groups, others arriving solo, but all greeted calmly by Joan. A younger woman, her red hair in a high ponytail, came and sat on Stephen’s other side, greeting him with a shy smile. Stephen could practically feel Tony’s jolt of discomfort and met his eyes with a reassuring look, though he wasn’t sure which aspect of the woman’s presence was making him uneasy. 

**_Of course it’s because she reminds him of Pepper and their tension lately_**, his mind snapped degradingly. **_It’s not because he’s jealous, you idiot_**

“Alright, let’s get started, everybody”, Joan called, addressing the room. She walked slowly back and forth in front of the window as she spoke, spreading her calming presence around the room. “First things first, this is not an art class. Technical skill is not required in this room and it’s not a competition”, she said, looking pointedly at Tony, who grinned impishly. “I’ve already explained to you all individually what the benefits of this type of class are. Your finished piece doesn’t matter so much as the process it takes to get there, much like your healing process. The purpose of this class is allow you to explore and express your feelings and experiences in a visual, physical way. It’s a valuable way to process your mental state, or you may even realize emotions that you weren’t aware of. I usually advise people to just go with the flow, but if you need some direction, I can help guide you along. Any questions?”

Tony raised his hand.

“Tony, you’re not in elementary school, just ask the question”, Joan said, with slightly less patience than usual. 

“Do we get marks deducted for huffing the acrylics?” There was scattered laughter around the room as Joan sighed.

“There are no marks.”

“So huffing the acrylics is allowed?”

“No. They’re water-based anyway” Joan paused, looking about the room with a raised brow. “Any actual questions?”

The red-haired high ponytail girl beside Stephen raised her hand.

“Again, you guys don’t need to raise your hands. Thanks for starting that, Tony.” Oh, so she could be sarcastic too. No wonder Tony hadn’t gotten bored of her yet. “Yes, Susan?” The young woman looked like she regretted drawing attention to herself. 

“Is it alright if we have something in mind before we start?” Joan looked grateful for the serious question.

“Of course. If you have something specific you want to work through, maybe something we’ve discussed in recent sessions, or something you’ve realized on your own, by all means let it direct your painting.” Her statement settled into the air of the room and Joan nodded. “Alright, you can all get started. Don’t hesitate to call me over if you need help.”

Stephen hesitated, staring at the small tubes of acrylic paint on the shelf of his easel. He shouldn’t be here. He was only here for Tony, and therefore felt like a waste of resources. He wouldn’t benefit from therapy, would he? He pushed past the question, it was too difficult, and looked over at Tony instead. He was already smearing black paint all over his canvas, looking bored about the whole thing, but working dutifully none the less. It reminded Stephen of his attitude during his physiotherapy at the Wakandan hospital. Content that Tony didn’t need his help, he turned back to his own canvas, grabbed a paintbrush and then continued to stare at the expanse of white in front of him.

“First time?” Stephen blinked, looking over to the red-haired high ponytail girl. She already had a base of varying shades of green on the bottom half of her canvas. 

“Uh, yeah”, he admitted. “Am I that obvious?” The girl just smiled, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fun once you just let things flow. I’m Susan, by the way.”

“Stephen”, he supplied, wondering why he was getting friendly when he definitely wouldn't be coming back here ever again. He jerked a thumb over to Tony. “I’m sure you know who he is.” Susan blushed a little.

“Yeah, of course. Nice to meet you”, she called over. Tony looked over at her, distracted, though he obviously knew he was being addressed.

“Yeah, uh, nice. Nice to meet you too”, Tony muttered, then turned back to his canvas, still spreading black over it. Stephen gave Susan a smile which could have been interpreted as apologetic.

“So, are you one of Joan’s clients too?”, she asked, taking the introductions as an invitation to conversation. Stephen wished he was back at the Sanctum. Or at that nice cafe in the Village with Tony, in their usual window seat. 

“Uh, no. No, I’m just here for moral support”, he explained, gesturing to Tony. He decided to follow Tony’s lead and began to cover his calendar-sized canvas in dark blue. 

“Oh, that’s sweet of you.” **_Was it? _**“I tried to get my sister to come to my first session, but she’s not the artsy type. Not that I am either, but it’s helped.”

“Strange, red or yellow?” Stephen head snapped around, not too concerned about giving Susan a half-hearted response. He surveyed Tony’s canvas, which was covered completely in black.

“Red”, Stephen said decisively, on a whim. 

“Wait. Strange?”, Susan asked, eyes wide when Stephen looked back at her. “Stephen Strange? Like Doctor Strange?” Oh, yeah, Stephen would give anything to be back at the Sanctum right now. He realized that he’d distractedly opened a tube of light blue paint and was dabbing small circles in the centre of his canvas. 

“Yeah”, he admitted. “That’s me.” Susan giggled a bit as she looked at him in awe.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you without the cape.” **_Cloak._** She suddenly looked far too contemplative. “How are you holding up since…well, all that?” **_For the love of the Vishanti._** Stephen had been hoping more than anything that no one would mention ‘all that’.

“Alright”, Stephen said, before deciding that it might fall within social norms better if he said more. “We’re-I’m better, you know. It’s been hard, but better than it was.” He looked over to Tony, hoping that he might help him get out of this conversation, but the man was extremely focused on his painting. Why was he ignoring Stephen completely? 

“There’s been press out the wazoo about him, obviously”, Susan said with hushed excitement as she gestured discreetly to Tony. “But I guess you like to keep things a little more quiet, hmm?” She seemed to notice Stephen’s trepidation about discussing the topic. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know you, and here I am being so insensitive. Forgive me.” 

“I was about to ask if you were a journalist or something. Asking me all these questions”, Stephen chuckled, though his voice was strained.

“Oh, god no. I’m a neurologist, actually.” Stephen’s interest was piqued.

“I used to be a neurosurgeon.” What was he doing? He never told that to people in his new life.

“I did know that, actually”, Susan beamed shyly. “You were kind of a legend when I was in school. The best of the best.”

“Thanks”, Stephen chuckled dryly, something in his chest hitching. He usually did his best to forget that part of his life. Silence fell between them as Stephen switched paint colours, painting a red triangle with rounded edges. Susan seemed to notice the awkward ledge their conversation had stumbled on to.

“Sorry. I’m an awkward mess”, she muttered. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Stephen suddenly felt guilty for being so standoffish.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just new to this whole thing, is all.” **_Liar._**

“Stephen”, Tony interjected forcefully, making the sorcerer turn quickly. He never used Stephen’s full name like that anymore unless he was being dead serious. Was he jealous of Stephen’s attention being directed elsewhere, or what? “Why don’t you keep going on your painting, Steph?”, Tony suggested, his voice a little softer. “It’s looking good.” He leaned over, squinting a little. “Whatever it is.”

Stephen regarded his own canvas. He hadn’t been thinking about the painting at all, just filling in different colours while talking with Susan, and more time had passed than he had thought. The hour was almost up. On the dark blue background of his canvas, there was an almost abstract arrangement of different coloured shapes. There was a light blue streak which split the canvas in half horizontally, a red triangle with the corners cut off, and a small light blue circle surrounded by a larger purple ring. A familiar yellow face mask had taken up residence in the top left corner. He’d doodled a white daisy in the bottom right corner, white streaks and webs hanging from the corner above. A green eye hovered top and centre. And smack dab in the centre was a light blue circle, just above and to the right of the smaller one. 

“Thanks”, Stephen muttered to Tony, jumping as he noticed a presence behind him. There was Joan, looking over his shoulder, but not in an overbearing way, just surveying his canvas with an appreciative eye.

“Looking good”, she said, encouragingly. Her expression said she knew more about the meaning of all those innocent shapes than Stephen would have liked. “It’s amazing what happens when we let our mind wander.” Stephen hummed contemplatively, not willing to give up any more than that. But he was saved as she spotted Tony’s canvas, though she didn’t take a step towards him. “Do you mind if I come over and look, Tony?” Tony was frozen, but finally managed a single word.

“Sure.”

Joan walked over to stand beside Tony, letting him keep her in his line of sight. Stephen leaned over inconspicuously so he could see Tony’s canvas properly. And what he saw dug a hole right down into the centre of his chest. 

Tony had covered the black with dozens and dozens of tiny white dots, scattered about in a dark abyss like pinpricks of light. On the bottom of the canvas there was a semicircle visible, patched with blue and green, immediately recognizable as Earth. Standing on the Earth were two figures, crudely painted and obviously not to scale, but also very recognizable. Both figures were turned away, one tall with long blonde hair, the other small with long brown hair. But the part that made Stephen feel like his stomach was being turned inside out was the lone figure, floating above the Earth, lost in the pinprick abyss. Stephen suddenly regretted his contribution to Tony’s colour decision earlier, as this figure was completely red, head to toe. On the figure’s chest was a small blue circle. 

“Do you want to tell me about your painting, Tony?”, Joan asked, her voice gentle and careful.

“No”, Tony said as he stood shakily, and strode out of the room. Stephen stared after him, frozen momentarily with shock and the worried fear pouring through his chest.

“I’ll hang onto your paintings so they can dry”, Joan explained softly. “I’ll give them to Tony at our next session.”

“Thank you”, Stephen muttered numbly, getting to his feet with a quiet screech of protest from his stool, and quickly trailed Tony into the hall. 

The community centre almost rivalled the Sanctum in terms of long, identical, confusing hallways, but Stephen had practice in that sort of thing so quickly found the stairwell he and Tony had come up. He turned left down the next hall intuitively, like the life force was pulling him to its other half. He finally made it the front foyer of the building to find Tony seated on a dingy leather sofa, head in his hands. His head whipped up as soon as he heard Stephen’s approaching footsteps, standing from the couch quickly.

“Sorry”, Tony rasped. “I should go apologize to Joan.” Despite his words, he started to drift towards the front door, and Stephen reached out to him, feeling like he needed to reel him back in.

“Joan’s fine. She wasn’t offended, just worried”, Stephen soothed, grabbing Tony’s wrist gently and pulling him back around to face him, gathering him up. “What’s going on with you? What happened back there?”

“It’s fine. It’s just…shit”, Tony mumbled, trying to brush off the sorcerer’s grasp as he turned for the front doors again.

“Hey”, Stephen said a little more forcefully, weak hand wrapping around his cybernetic wrist. “You can’t keep running out on me. How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know what’s going on in your head?” Tony stopped trying to pull away, meeting his eyes fully.

“That’s not your job. You’re not my therapist.” Stephen didn’t let go of his wrist.

“But I’m your friend”, he said, with conviction. It wasn’t a question. Tony nodded, resignation showing in his good eye as he studied Stephen’s face.

“Of course. I just don’t want to put more stuff on you than I need to. I’m just-.“ He pulled his hand back, raking his hands through his hair before looking up to meet Stephen’s face again. “Pepper and I split up.”

“What?”, Stephen said unhelpfully, in shock. He suddenly couldn’t feel his legs.

“We’re getting a divorce”, Tony said roughly, tears threatening in his good eye as he paced back and forth, spinning on his heel every few steps. “And this art therapy thing - I thought it was going to be some - I had no idea what I was going to - and then I just started…and that came out.” He covered his mouth with one hand, holding back a sob. “That’s how I feel right now. I’m just…fucking _floating_ out in space again. It’s like the wormhole, it’s like the Benatar, but I’m _here_.”

“Do you want to sit?”, Stephen asked as he tried to lead him back to the couch, still trying to wrap his head around it all. Tony and Pepper were getting divorced. Maybe he had a chance- **_Shut up!_**

“No, no, I need to walk”, Tony said, pushing him away numbly. Stephen stood where he was. Tony kept pushing him away, running away, like he was scared of their closeness, or maybe he just didn’t want him around. The thought drilled a hole through Stephen’s core, all the way from his stomach to his back, so you could see the wall on the other side if he lifted his shirt up. 

“W-when did this happen?”

“Right after…uh, yeah, right after I came to the Sanctum to do the pendant thing. I got home and we had a huge fight. Morgan wasn’t there, thank god.” Tony was still pacing, but Stephen sunk to the sofa, watching him numbly. “She was screaming at me about lying and accusing me of cheating…” He trailed off as he met Stephen’s eyes, suddenly realizing what he was saying. “I didn’t mean-.”

“Did I-?” Stephen couldn't bear to ask the question, heavy emptiness sitting in his chest. “Is it my fault that you-? Did she leave you because of me? The past year, all the times I’ve come over to the cabin, is that why-?” Tears trickled down Tony’s face as he tilted his head, brow screwed in exasperated confusion

“Stephen”, he said, and his voice was soft, if shaking a little. Stephen’s heart forgot how to beat as Tony came and sunk down onto the under-stuffed sofa beside him. “That wasn’t our entire argument.” He chuckled bitterly. “We’ve had issues long before you came around. Turns out the breaking point was the suits, because its always been the suits.” He took a deep breath, eyes glittering with tears, and Stephen wished he could just hold him. “I’m the one who ended it, really. We both agreed it’s for the best, but I’ve been miserable, Steph. I forget what having real support is like, and then I’m with you-.” Tony choked, cutting himself off and Stephen’s heart faltered. “Or Rhodey, or Peter. All of you, really, reminding me what if feels like to have someone on my side for real. Instead of constantly pushing against me. It’s exhausting.” Stephen could only nod as he listened, trying to remember how to breathe. 

“So…Morgan?” Stephen regretted his question immediately. The dam broke and Tony broke down into wet sobs, covering his face with his cybernetic hand. Stephen chanced an arm around his shoulders and was relieved when Tony didn’t pull away. “Oh, my god. Tony, I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay, Doc”, he said, wiping his cheeks hurriedly as several people walked by, all from the art therapy class. A few sent sympathetic looks their way, but Tony ignored them. “Pepper agreed on joint custody, thank god. 50/50. I don’t know what I would have done if she wanted full custody. I would have lost her, Steph. Look at me, I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not a mess”, Stephen muttered, pulling him closer for a second, chin resting on Tony’s head. Tears dripped from Tony’s face onto the front of his shirt, but Stephen didn’t care. 

“I was so scared of losing her.” He wiped his face again, sniffing. “But we told her, and she- god, she’s so smart, Steph. She understood it and I don’t know if she accepted it, but… I think she was more worried about me and Pepper than her own feelings.”

“Sounds a lot like her dad”, Stephen rasped affectionately, resisting the urge to press a comforting kiss to his temple. Tony pulled back, grinning a little through his tears.

“Yeah. Poor kid. Hope this doesn’t mess her up. Hope I don’t mess up…” He drew his face into his hands again and, _oh god,_ Stephen just wanted to hold him forever, tell him everything was alright. 

“Hey. It’s just my opinion, but she’s probably better off having two loving parents that don’t live together than…well, the alternative. Trust me. I know.” Tony blinked, looking at him with something new and unguarded in his eyes.

“You know?” Stephen sighed, taking a steadying breath. He hadn’t planned on mentioning that.

“Yes. So, as much as it hurts right now, I’m sure she’ll thank you when she’s older.”

“Did you see that in all those futures?”, Tony teased. “Or can you not tell me?” 

“Actually”, Stephen breathed, wishing the butterflies in his chest would go back to his stomach. “I never saw any further in this future than when I split my life force to give to you.” Tony blinked, fixing him with his mismatched eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m just as lost as you right now. Figuring stuff out day by day”, Stephen said, his tone lighter, but he saw how Tony was staring at his cybernetic hand, tracing a finger over one of his red and gold digits. He met Stephen’s eyes again and there were tears in them again.

“You didn’t know if it was gonna work, or if you were going to live…and you did it anyway?” Stephen studied his face, wondering if he should bite his tongue, brush it off with a joke, or try to deflect the question, but his pounding heart resisted all of those options.

“You were worth the risk”, he muttered, breaking a hole in the dam Tony had built in front of his well of tears. Stephen wrapped an arm around him as Tony broke down again, pulling him to his chest while shushing him. “That wasn’t supposed to make you cry again”, he said with a small chuckle.

“You’re gonna have to cry all over _me_ one of these days”, Tony hiccuped with a laugh through his tears. “We’re getting a little uneven on the breakdown/comfort ratio here, Doc.” Stephen laughed again, chancing a soft thumb brushed quickly over Tony’s cheek. Silence fell over them in the foyer, the snow beginning to fall heavily outside while Tony still leaned against the sorcerer’s shoulder.Minutes passed and Stephen felt his heart slow into a contented rhythm. 

“I should get going”, Tony rasped, like he regretted having to break the silence. He sighed and lifted his head from Stephen’s shoulder, and Stephen swore his heart melted a little at the soft look in his eyes. “Walk me out, Doc?”

“Of course.”

They walked out arm-in-arm and Stephen wondered mildly if Tony could feel his heartbeat reverberating through his body. 

“You should come over”, Tony said casually, his voice still a little hoarse from crying, sliding his shades on despite the clustering snow clouds. “Pepper will be dropping Morgan off in about an hour. Morgan would love to see you.” Stephen balked, almost stopping in his tracks, but Tony’s arm linked in his pulled him forward gently. Swimming under his shock was the wish that, just once, Tony would admit that _he_ missed Stephen, instead of always using Morgan as a cover up. 

“Are…are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tony glanced up at him over his shades, brow quirked as they went around to the driver side of his Audi.

“What? What do you mean?” 

Stephen’s pleasantly thrumming heart had now dropped into his boots as Tony let their arms fall apart. If Tony didn’t see any awkwardness in inviting him over when his newly separated wife would be there…well, maybe Stephen was even more delusional than he’d thought. If Tony didn’t recognize how inappropriate that situation would be, then maybe their relationship wasn’t even half of what Stephen had thought it was. He felt like crying, and swallowed harshly before speaking. 

“Well, you know, Pepper doesn’t really like me…to say the least. I wouldn't want to contribute another reason for her to be uncomfortable while dropping Morgan off.” He sucked in a breath, the air too cold in his lungs all of a sudden. “That’s all.”

“Oh.” Tony frowned, idly brushing some snow off his side mirror. He seemed confused by Stephen turning down the invitation, and this hurt even more, the apparent delusions of the past year twisting in the sorcerer’s chest like a pitchfork. “I think it would be fine but, you know, whatever you’re comfortable with.” He brushed some of the snow off his collar, deep in thought. “What are you - uh, sometime later this week, then? We’ll get together or something?” 

Stephen felt like screaming with frustration. Tony had just invited him over, and here he was turning him down. 

** _Tony and Pepper are getting a divorce, but Tony sees you as just a friend. _ **

Tony was inviting him over strictly as a friend, and as much as Stephen would have liked to take the crumbs he was thrown, he wasn’t particularly keen to see Pepper again. Tony had just told him how she had accused him of cheating with Stephen, so if she could see something other than friendship there, why couldn’t Tony? But of course Tony would never cheat. Not that he was. The closest Stephen had ever come to straddling that line was ironically the very occasion which led Pepper to believe her husband was being unfaithful; their pendant switch at the Sanctum. Face to face with Tony in the candle-lit dark of the meditation room, thrumming with life and warmth, Stephen had felt his blood coursing through his veins, like he’d never been alive before that moment. He’d thought that, maybe in that moment, there had been a flicker of something. Something worming its way past Tony’s layers of defences, succumbing to the pull Stephen had been suppressing for almost nine months. 

But maybe it had all been wishful thinking.

**_It’s fine, it’s all fine. I’d be okay being just friends with you. Your friendship is enough for me._** But the words in his head were all lies, and he knew it. It would never be enough. Friendship was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to what he could have with Tony, though he only knew this because of all those goddamn tantalizing, too-good-to-be-true possibilities which had shown him worlds where he’d had everything. Tony could give all of himself to Stephen, like in those realities where they were each other’s everything, and it still wouldn't be enough. Stephen could drown in his light and he’d still ache for more, he’d crawl on his hands and knees begging to get every last scrap of this man that he could. He would always want him. 

“Of course”, Stephen said, because he always did. He always would. No matter how many times he was left wanting, he would be there for Tony without fail. 

“I’ll text you”, Tony said with a half grin, opening his door reluctantly. “Thanks for coming today, Steph. I - it means a lot.”

“Always. Don’t worry about it”, Stephen grinned, but he couldn’t feel his own heartbeat anymore. He watched Tony duck into the car and speed away in a flurry of flakes, the Audi like blood against the freshly falling snow. Stephen watched the car until it disappeared and then craned his neck and looked up into the flurry of white, snowflakes sticking to his lashes. He wondered what it would feel like to just lay down in the snow, to let the snowflakes cover him. Let them claim him. That might hurt less than this.

*****

It was late one night, two months after Tony and Pepper’s separation, when Rhodey realized how bad it was. 

Tony was over at his place, practically laying on him at this point after too much food and not enough sleep. Lost in the turmoil of getting separated from Pepper, run down and losing more sleep than usual, Tony reached out for the one person who had always kept him afloat. 

Rhodey. 

Never good at talking about his feelings, or what ever was going on inside his head, Tony had resorted to a touch-starved state that had Rhodey reminiscing about their uni days. So, in the past two months, Tony had called up his best friend whenever he was in need of a crash day: too much junk food, cuddling on the couch, and just comfort in general. Crash days turned into crash nights as Rhodey got busier with foreign correspondence meetings, their time together usually in the late hours which were almost morning, lasting for several hours before they both fell asleep. Rhodey often had meetings early the next morning, and didn’t particularly have the time when he was swamped with paperwork to lay around with his depressed friend for hours. But he made the time. Even if it was Tony lying with his head on his lap while he caught up on computer work. Even if it was just dropping by the lake house in the War Machine armour for a talk over coffee and a few hugs. Even if he could really only spare half an hour or so, it was always enough for Tony. 

In another lifetime, or back in the day before the world had almost ended, Rhodey might have pushed his best friend to quit wallowing, to take care of his health a little more, emotionally and physically. He might have prompted him to toughen up a little, he’d faced worse than this. But then he’d get one glimpse of that half-blind Bambi-eyed pout and all brusqueness would fly out the window. His heart couldn’t handle letting Tony Stark suffer anymore. Things were different now. He still pushed Tony to be his best, but in a different way. He was softer, more forgiving, though the colonel had never been anything less than endlessly supportive. If doing the bare minimum was all Tony could handle, then Rhodey would be there, gently encouraging him to do what ever he could. If getting out of bed was all Tony could fathom doing, that was okay, because there were days where even that seemed impossible. Today had been one of those days, Tony texting Rhodey that morning to give him warning ahead of time. He was going to need some time with his best friend. 

They would usually be doing this at the cabin, but Pepper was spending the night, getting the last of her and Morgan’s things packed before moving permanently to the Manhattan townhouse. She wouldn’t have wanted Tony’s help even if he was able to do any heavy-lifting. No, she had explicitly stated that she didn’t want Tony around while she packed up every scrap of her life and all that Morgan wouldn’t be keeping at the cabin for when she stayed with Tony. Tony had relayed all of this to him with silent tears making their way down his cheek, making Rhodey grateful that he didn’t have any meetings tomorrow and could devote his full attention to his friend, for the night at least. 

The flatscreen flickered with commercials between portions of a tv show that neither of them was watching, simply laying in the silence of each other’s company. They had talked as they ate take-out from Tony’s favourite burger place, diverting their conversation to anything but the issue at hand. Rhodey had tried to get him to talk about the situation and his feelings plenty of times in the past two months, to no avail. He didn’t push him tonight, though, perfectly content to let Tony divulge in silence and physical comfort. Tony was currently wedged between Rhodey and the back of the sofa as they both laid length-wise on it, heavy with food and sleep as he hid from the word with his face pressed into the colonel’s hoodie.

“Tones”, Rhodey mumbled, fighting sleep himself after working all day. “You’re crushing me.” Tony complied with a grumble, rolling over so he was no longer half-laying on his friend. 

“Stephen doesn’t think I’m fat”, Tony growled sleepily, refusing to open his eyes. Rhodey couldn’t help but smile at the slight absurdity of his statement, odd if only for the fact that he had brought the sorcerer up out of nowhere. If that wasn’t telling as to where Tony’s mind went by default, then nothing was.

“I don’t think you’re fat, I just can’t handle the entirety of a grown man on top of my ribcage.”

“Wuss”, Tony muttered lovingly, eyes still closed with his face turned into his friend’s chest. “Bet you Stephen could handle me laying on him.” Rhodey blinked at this in surprise, wondering if Tony realized he was speaking out loud. Despite his concern for his best friend’s mental state, Rhodey couldn’t resist acting put out by this statement.

“Oh, yeah? Well, has Stephen been the one babying you for the past two months? Is Stephen the one acting as your human pillow right now?”

“I wish”, Tony muttered, clearly without thinking. His eyes shot open upon realizing that he had, in fact, spoken those words aloud. “I didn’t mean it like that”, he tried to remedy, significantly more awake now as he tried to sit up, but Rhodey had him.

“Oh, really? And how exactly did you mean it, Tony?” Tony could only gape blankly as he sat up, pushing away from his friend’s chest. His cheeks were flushed as he avoided eye contact. 

“I was half asleep, give me a break”, he snapped half-heartedly. 

“You are so obvious”, Rhodey laughed, pulling himself up so he could lean back against the arm of the sofa. “I don’t think you could replicate a gushy teenage crush any better if you tried.”

“Stop”, Tony growled, blush deepening.

“You’re like a thirteen-year-old girl, twirling her braids. ‘Oh, Stephen, you’re so dreamy’”, Rhodeyteased in a high, affected voice. 

“Shut up, platypus”, Tony warned, finally regaining some of his composure as he picked a few stray fries out of one of the bags on the coffee table. “I was just kidding, alright? Like, jeez, lighten up. No need to take everything so seriously.” Rhodey sighed dramatically for show, grinning at the annoyed look it earned him. 

“You’re hopeless. Utterly hopeless, Tones.”

“You’re gonna have to be a little more specific. I’m not always certain which of my fuck ups people are referring to”, Tony grumbled, crossing his arms defensively though his legs were still thrown over Rhodey’s lap. The pout pulling his bottom lip out made him look about twenty years younger, and Rhodey had to suppress the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair. 

“I mean, Stephen’s even worse. I don’t know how nobody’s called him out on it yet, but you’re obviously head-over-heels for the guy.” Tony gaped like a goldfish again, snapping his mouth shut quickly and recovering with a teasing grin.

“You’re hilarious, Rhodey. Really. You should quit this whole military thing and become a comedian. Honestly. You’re wasted as War Machine.”

“I’m serious, Tony. I’m in agony”, Rhodey said, drawing his hands down his face. “I’ve been watching you two fall over each other for the last nine months and, honestly? It’s been painful.” 

“What are you talking about?”, Tony sputtered. “First of all, I’ve been married to Pepper the entire time I’ve known Stephen, so, rude. Secondly, we are just friends.”

“First of all”, Rhodey retorted, counting off a finger. “You and Pepper are separated. So, although you’re technically still married until you file for divorce, you’re not in a relationship anymore.”

“Thanks for clearing that up, Rhodey”, Tony said dryly. “Really appreciate it.”

“Secondly, friends don’t look at friends the way you and Stephen look at each other.” Tony frowned, deep in thought before looking to Rhodey challengingly, though something in his eyes had softened slightly.

“What? What are you talking about? Do I look at him any different than I look at you?”

“Tones, if you looked at me the way you look at him, I would have proposed to you decades ago.”

“Well, as flattered as I am, Rhodey, I did just get out of fifteen year relationship”, Tony said wryly, hands up defensively. “So, I think I’m gonna have to turn you down.” Rhodey just huffed.

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you, Tony.” 

“So am I! But you’re not making any sense! You sure you didn’t hit your head or something? Should I check the War Machine armour for dings? Don’t tell me you dented my baby, Rhodes.”

“Tony, stop! Just focus. I know you don’t want to talk about this, and some people might say it’s not my place, but I think someone has to get you to acknowledge what’s going on.”

“And what do you think’s going on?”, Tony asked, suddenly deathly serious. The sudden mood change threw Rhodey off, but he rolled with it. He’d had four decades of practice, after all. 

“I think”, he started slowly. “I think that you and Stephen have gone through something that no two other people have ever had to go through. I think that you’ve formed a base of friendship that would take most people years to form, but I also think that you like him beyond that friendship. I think you’re in love with each other, as sappy as that sounds, and even if neither of you realize it. I think, at the very least, you’re attracted to each other, which you might be able to ignore if the rest of it wasn’t there, but the rest of it _is_ there, so…”

Tony just stared at his own lap, refusing to meet Rhodey’s eyes as every single one of his words reverberated through his body, ringing with truth. 

“I…know all that”, Tony rasped. “I know it’s all true. I’ve wished so many times…that maybe in a different life, maybe. Just…Pepper. She was…and, god, she hates him so much. She never wanted me to see him when that’s all I freaking wanted.” The colonel’s heart broke as he watched the tears fall from Tony’s face into his lap.

“I know it’s only been two months, Tony. And it’s been hard. But you need to do something to let him know that you still want him around. Maybe as more than a friend.”

“I just-.” Tony buried his head in his hands. “Everything with Pepper is still so fresh. Two months isn’t that long, okay? I don’t know if I’m ready to be my best for someone else yet.”

“Stephen doesn’t need your best. He just needs you.”

“Bullshit.” Rhodey had known Tony long enough to know that he would never accept that he was enough for someone, just as he was.

“It’s true. Every time he looks at you, it’s…blindingly obvious that he would do everything for you.”

“You mean ‘anything’.” Rhodey shook his head.

“No. I mean ‘everything’. For God sakes, Tony, open your eyes. The man almost died for you!”

“You think you have to remind me of that?!” Tony erupted before he slumped forward, covering his eyes with his metal hand. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed. “I like him. Okay? You’re right, I like him. I really, really like him. But every time I let myself think about our relationship, what it all means, I drive myself crazy wondering why the hell he did that. I mean, it would be different if you had done it for me”, Tony said, meeting his friend’s eyes. “But he didn’t even know me, Rhodey. What kind of person just gives up half of themselves for someone they don’t even know?”

“The good kind”, Rhodey replied levelly, fixing Tony in his gaze. “Look, it sounds like something you and Stephen should talk about, don’t you think? It sounds like there’s a lot you two need to talk about, actually.” There was a beat of silence before Tony responded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, he rasped.

“I know I’m right”, the colonel said gently. “And…I’m not trying to push you before you’re ready, or make you rush into anything, but that guy doubts himself more than you do. So, you know…” He gave Tony a half grin, meeting his brown and blind eye. “Don’t give him a reason to.”

Rhodey’s heart lightened as he watched the beginnings of a grin flicker over his best friend’s face.

“I think I’m gonna call him.” Rhodey frowned, checking his watch.

“It’s 1:40 in the morning. You think he’ll be up?”

“He has an erratic sleep schedule”, Tony said fondly, phone in hand as he stood. 

“I wonder what dealing with that is like”, Rhodey commented idly, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Rhodey?”, Tony asked. “Thank you.” The colonel just shook his head fondly.

“He’s a really good guy. You deserve each other.” Tony grimaced, self-deprecating as ever.

“We’ll see.”


	15. I'll Choose You (The Key To My Biometric Heart Is A Code)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony decides to tell Stephen something important when they meet up for lunch, but things don't go as planned. The past proves to be just as problematic as the present for them both. Tony makes a choice, one that will shape the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I expect ya’ll to lose your shit over this chapter, aight? Jk (Seriously tho, comments give me life <3)
> 
> DO NOT LOOK AT THE END NOTES before reading the chapter, unless you want spoilers.
> 
> This chapter is actually incredibly self-indulgent. Like, these are all of my favourite things in fic omfg This is hands down my favourite chapter so far, I cried about a litre of tears writing it. I’m so happy and excited to share it with you guys and hear what you think.
> 
> Alternative titles for this chapter: “The Gays Go To Brunch and Shit Goes Down” or “How Many Times Can Stephen Strange Cry In One Day?”
> 
> *slaps this chapter* This baby can fit so much angst in it.
> 
> Tony: I don’t shave for Stephen Strange.  
Rhodey: Sure, you don’t…

Stephen had, in fact, been awake when Tony had called at 1:40 a.m.

He had been surprised to hear from him, frankly. They never had gone for that lunch Tony suggested while they were leaving the community centre almost a month ago. Tony had been busy with some hiccups in his and Pepper’s separation agreement, and though he texted Stephen a couple times a week, it was a far cry from seeing each other in person. Meanwhile, Stephen had been reclaiming more and more of his duties as Sorcerer Supreme, so it wasn’t as if he had just been sitting around pining for Tony and feeling sorry for himself. As his magic abilities healed, he was able to help track mystic threats with Wong, keep an eye on the Sanctums, and monitor ley lines in hotspots of otherworldly activity. Despite the improvement, there were still bad days when the blow of losing half of his life force left him unable to even conjure a small gateway. But while he had been spending more time at Kamar Taj, or burying his head in books at the Sanctum, he’d been trying very hard to not think about Tony, still sore from the realization outside the community centre. Tony saw him only as a friend, and that’s likely all he would ever see him as. 

So, it was after this realization especially that Stephen was shocked to receive a call from him, especially so late at night. 

But here he was, waiting for Tony at their usual window seat in their favourite Greenwich cafe, predetermined by their phone call last night. He’d ordered a cup of mint tea, shaking hands wrapped around it as he watched the world go by, but had yet to take a sip of it, his nerves making his stomach squirm in anticipation. Tony hadn’t specified last night what he wanted to meet up and discuss, just that it was important they saw each other in person. This was the longest they’d been apart since their unfortunate misunderstanding several months ago, and though Stephen’s pendant had alleviated the physical symptoms of their separation fairly well, three and half weeks might as well have been an eternity. He’d been waiting for almost half an hour, though he had shown up almost embarrassingly early, twirling the silver watch bracelet from Tony around his wrist nervously. 

The bell above the front door of the cafe chimed as it opened, a gentle flurry of flakes trailing the new patron in onto the hardwood floor. Stephen’s head whipped around, catching sight of Tony before the other man saw him, therefore giving him the chance to stare openly. 

He was beautiful, really. Not as flashy as he once was, all shades and sharp suits and gleaming teeth, but he was still brilliant to look at in his softer, greying way. The very sight of him made Stephen’s heart pound with affectionate desire, though there was something a little different about him today, something that Stephen couldn’t quite put his finger on. Tony’s wool winter coat was unbuttoned with cybernetic fingers which had become surprisingly deft even since Stephen last saw him. He was pulling his long scarf off just as he spotted the sorcerer, greeting him with a soft grin as he walked over. 

“Morning, Steph”, Tony muttered, checking his watch. “Is it still morning? 11:30. Yep, still good.” He smiled again as he settled onto his chair, pulling his coat off his shoulders to reveal the navy cable knit Stephen had become quietly partial to. 

“You almost missed it”, Stephen smiled back. He hoped Tony knew how thoroughly he had his hands wrapped around the sorcerer’s heart. “I was getting a bit worried when you were late.”

“Sorry about that.” Tony shook his head at himself, looking up as a waitress came over. “Just a black coffee, please.” He turned back to Stephen, leaning forward on the table to devote his full attention to him. “I was just dropping Morgan off at Pepper’s. She’s taking her to a doctor appointment in the city and then I get her for the weekend. We’re still tryna figure out the whole custody schedule thing, or I am, at least. And then there was traffic up on - sorry, you don’t want to hear all this.”

“Of course I do”, Stephen said, though not admitting that he had been momentarily distracted by the way Tony’s bicep looked in that sweater. He’d obviously had the chance to start working out again in the past month or so. “How’s Morgan? How’s she handling everything?” Tony shrugged, thanking the waitress as she came with his coffee.

“Like a five-year-old, I suppose. She’s practical, like her mom.” He smirked and a smile grew over Stephen’s face almost subconsciously in response. “She sees that her mom and I are happier when we’re apart, so she’s accepted it pretty quickly.” He laughed a little, drawing a thumb and forefinger around his mouth, pulling on his chin distractedly. And that’s when Stephen realized what was off.

“You shaved”, the sorcerer remarked simply, blinking as he studied the face of the man he had come to known better than anyone. Tony chuckled at his bewildered response, drawing his hand over his mouth again self-consciously.

“Took you long enough to notice, Doc. I thought you were the all-seeing Sorcerer Supreme, or something.” Stephen’s chest warmed at the familiar teasing.

“Or something. You look so different without the goatee, though. A lot younger.”

“Hey. You calling me old?”, Tony snapped, feigning offence.

“Of course not. Why the change, though?” Tony shrugged again, tapping one metal finger on the ceramic of his mug.

“Dunno. It was getting a little thin, I suppose. And everything else is changing, so I thought, ‘why not this too’?” Tony considered his reflection on the blade of his butter knife. “What? You don’t like it?” Stephen almost scoffed, catching the sound in his throat before it was released. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he’d love Tony no matter how he looked, no matter how grey his hair got, no matter how many scars he had, no matter how much of him was made of metal.

“No, I do. Of course, you look great.” Stephen coughed. **_Fuck._** “I’m just not used to it.” Tony ducked his head quickly with another chuckle, looking back up at Stephen and rewarding him with one of his real, genuine smiles. God, those were like gold. Rare and valuable. 

“Thanks”, Tony muttered. “Uh, anyway, there was a reason I dragged you here, Doc.” Tony squinted, delaying the inevitable conversation. “Sorry again about calling so late.”

“It’s fine”, Stephen insisted. “I was up anyway.” Not that he every properly slept. His body got the rest it needed, but he spent most nights haunting the Sanctum in his astral form. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept like a normal person. “What were you saying?”

“Right, uh, yeah… So I’ve thought, well, actually Rhodey and I were talking and-. There’s something I wanted to bring up, and I don’t know if it’s a good - no, yeah, it’s probably alright.”

“Tony”, Stephen said gently, prompting him to spit it out. The sorcerer’s heart was beating in his chest so fast it was pure agony, half expecting Tony to tell him that they couldn’t even be friends anymore. Or he could be gearing up to tell him the other thing. 

“Sorry, I’m just-.” Both men’s heads snapped up as Tony was cut off by a loud bang, like a building being levelled, followed by the electric feeling of an energy field making its way down the street. “That’s not good”, Tony said, his casual words not betraying the deathly fear in his eyes as he looked out the window.

“What is it?”, Stephen asked, standing quickly as everyone else in the cafe begin to clamour at the windows.

“I can’t see anything yet.” He turned for the door quickly, pulling his coat on. “You coming, Steph?” 

“Yep. Coming”, Stephen nodded, grabbing his own coat and running after Tony out the door, Levi immediately transforming from a scarf back into their usual form, latching onto the sorcerer’s shoulders. A million possibilities ran through his head about what that sound could have been, terrifying himself by thinking that it could be something he’d never even read about. If his heart was beating out of his chest with anxiety, he had no idea how scared Tony was right now. This was too much like that New York fight almost six years ago, the pair of aliens, the round spaceship taking them up into that black nothingness, to a planet where Stephen and Peter had-.

“Stephen, look!”, Tony called over the roaring of the wind, created by the vortex of swirling snow about three blocks down from where they were. Snow was still falling heavily, and Stephen had to squint to try and make out the source of all this disturbed energy.

“What is it?!”, he yelled back, noticing acutely how small and defenceless Tony looked, just standing in the middle of the street, feet braced like he was preparing to carry the Earth on his back.

“I was hoping you might know!”, Tony said loudly, his voice almost whisked away in the wind as he powered up a repulsor beam in the palm of his cybernetic hand. “Some things never change!”, he said with a guilty grin. “Don’t tell Rhodey! He’ll kill me!”

“I just might! Stay back!”, Stephen yelled hoarsely, not bothering to switch over to his robes as mandala shields flickered into existence around his fists, Levi and his coat flapping around him in the wind. He regretted his choice of not grabbing a pair of gloves before he left the Sanctum, hands shaking more than usual in the cold wind.

Horror sunk into Stephen’s chest as the swirling snow began to settle, the tornado of energy dissipating as its source began moving towards them. Stephen traced several rapid circles over his open palm, wrists glowing with rings of energy, sending out a spell which sent forth a gust of wind and cleared the swirling snow away from their target. **_Too similar to the New York fight_**, Stephen thought desperately, remembering using that exact spell six years ago. 

Once the Winds of Watoomb had cleared the flurry of white out of the way, they were finally able to lay eyes on the monstrosity which had entered their dimension with such a large rupture in the energy field. The best way to describe the creature was to compare it to a Chinese dragon, as it looked like an enormous snake with short legs and sharp claws, a huge frill surrounding the spiralled horns on its head. The beast floated in the air as if by magic, too slow to be considered gliding, not that Stephen would criticize its speed at it hurtled towards them. The creature’s silver skin shone like metal even amongst the grey snow clouds, glittering and sparking with electricity as it snaked towards them.

“That thing is not from our world!”, Stephen bellowed over the creature’s hissing. 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock!”, Tony yelled back, bracing himself more as if that would help against the however many thousands of pounds of enraged reptile careening towards him. “You’re saying you don’t know what it is?!” Stephen looked over at Tony, meeting his eyes with a sinking, cold feeling in his heart.

“No idea!” Panic swarmed in Stephen’s chest as he could already feel his magical energy waning, like a light bulb on its last legs that was going out in his chest. “Call a suit!”

“What?!”

“Don’t bullshit me, Tony! We both know you have suits battle-ready and on call!” Tony rolled his eyes as he relented, tapping the face of his watch three times.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes to get here! I didn’t bring the nano housing! Didn’t think I’d be needing it! Do you think we can hold that thing off?!”, Tony called over the blowing of the wind being torn through the rip rent in space which the creature had come through. Stephen was terrified to see how uncertain he looked. 

“We’ll be fine!”, Stephen said, though neither of them believed him. Levi lifted him up into the air intuitively as he readied rings of Raggador around his fists, holding them up in a fighting pose. “I’ve tried calling Wong, but he must be in a different dimension. Once I’m up there, stay near the bases of buildings! Just stay close behind me!”

“Behind you?!”, Tony snapped, aghast. “Are you kidding me?!”

“This is not the time to be proud, Tony! You don’t have a suit! You have one repulsor glove! Stay! Behind! Me!” 

Stephen didn’t have time to make sure Tony had listened as Levi lifted him higher, gaining the creature’s attention as he readied crimson bands of Cyttorak, throwing them out to wrap around several of the creature’s horns before it was on them. Stephen pulled the creature higher and back, twisting it back on itself as its enormous, snapping jaws roared mere feet from him. On the ground, Tony was laying into the creature’s weak spots with strategically-placed shots, trying to rip a hole through its tough, armoured scales. Stephen wound more bands around the creature’s jaws as it roared its pain, its tail lashing into a nearby high-rise. He continued to send shots of energy at the creature’s face, keeping it away from him while directing it back towards the rift. He could feel his energy being sapped out of his body by the second, though Levi did most of the work in leading the mammoth being back towards the hole between dimensions. The hand movements for more powerful spells flashed through Stephen’s mind, but he knew using them would sap too much of his energy, likely rendering him unconscious, and where would that leave Tony?

The creature was still lashing around, trying to escape and capture him in its jaws at the same time, and Stephen almost threw up as he saw its tail lash the ground right where Tony had been standing. His life force flickered in his chest, fear coursing through his veins as he tried not to think about what that might mean. He couldn’t even yell, his lungs crumpling with fear, though he knew Tony wouldn’t be able to hear him from this height anyway.

There was suddenly a terrible ripping noise and Stephen was jerked back down towards earth as the creature’s teeth clamped onto Levi, throwing the sorcerer around like a cat with a new string toy. Stephen’s heart shot into his throat as he began to free fall, watching as Levi fell through the air in tatters, tears in his eyes as he heard the familiar sound of repulsor beams being powered up.

“STEPHEN!”

All the air was forced out of Stephen’s lungs as his body collided with two metal arms. Tony tried to catch him as gently as possible with the suit, barely a dozen stories from the sickeningly dark pavement. Stephen clung to the armour with weak, trembling hands, twisting around so he and Tony were chest-to-chest, wrapping his arms around the neck of the armour. Tony shot towards an alley as quickly as possible before the creature reorientated itself, ducking into the shelter between two buildings. Tony’s helmet flipped up as they reached the ground, worried eyes scanning over Stephen as he set him down quickly but gently.

“Stephen”, Tony muttered in his ear so he could hear him over the screams of the enraged beast. “Are you okay?” Stephen was almost numb to Tony’s arms still around him, holding him up as his shaking legs failed him.

“L-Levi”, was all the sorcerer could sputter out, the ravaged remains of the cloak still trembling on his shoulders. Tony nodded, understanding, though Stephen pulled himself out of his pounding head to notice the pained tears in Tony’s eyes, blood running down his cheek from a gash on his face.

“You’re grounded. Got it. You hang here, I’ve got this.”

“It hit you”, Stephen gasped, trying to keep his composure. His eyes dropped to Tony’s cybernetic arm, immediately noticing the odd angle it was twisted at. “Your arm. You can’t fight like that.”

“It’s fine”, Tony growled unconvincingly, helmet flipping shut with a soft clang before he plunged back into the street. He slipped out of Stephen’s grip and shot into the sky, though unsteadily, firing beams of energy at the newly-enraged galactic beast, dancing around it like a red and gold fly. He fired grenades and repulsor beams at the creature’s eyes and head, going too far above the clouds for Stephen’s comfort. The sorcerer ran back out into the street just as Tony made a nose dive and swooped by him, just a whir of energy and metal. He came circling back around, facing the beast head on and firing at it, using the proton canons to injure it and blind it temporarily. Stephen was beginning to feel a smidgen of relief as Tony began to push the giant snake back towards the rift, but then the creature brought its tail down like a club, and Stephen felt something in his chest die. 

** _No. I can’t lose you. Not now. There’s so much more we need to do._ **

Tony went flying, slamming into the ground with the force of the impact, skidding across the crumbled pavement in a jumble of red and gold for several yards before stopping. 

“TONY!”

Stephen felt the flicker in his own life force again as Tony hit the ground, and ran towards him for all he was worth, cursing his legs for shaking as they were. A massive gush of air moved past him as the beast slammed its tail down again, somehow missing them both before lifting its tail to strike again. Stephen was relieved, watching Tony’s arm lift up as he still ran towards him, tapping the arc reactor nano housing twice. He could barely lift himself up on one arm, catching sight of Stephen.

“Take the suit!”, Tony yelled hoarsely, throwing the arc reactor to the sorcerer. Stephen shocked himself when he caught it, tearing his coat off, shaking hands only hesitating for a millisecond before pressing it to the centre of his chest, tapping the reactor’s smooth surface twice and the nanites began to crawl over him, encasing him in the contents of Tony’s heart. For a split second, he’d never felt so safe. 

Running out in front of Tony, he fired a repulsor beam from his palm, hitting the creature square in the eye on the first go. Encouraged, Stephen tried using the boot repulsors, lifting up from the ground several feet before shooting forward, careening around the creature instead of straight into it. His flight became jerky as he tried to control the flight path, spurting forward in erratic bursts of power as he tried to lure the creature towards the rift. He noticed too late, though, that the creature wasn’t following him. Instead, it was more interested in its original target, leering towards Tony’s still form in the dust of the rubble, open maw screeching and hissing a challenge to the formerly worthy opponent.

Stephen banked the suit abruptly, jerking around hard enough that he felt his temple smack the side of the helmet, hot blood trickling down his cheek. He flew underneath the creature as quickly as he knew how, straining forward with every inch of his being as he watched Tony laying there. He’d left him defenceless.

Stephen pulled up at the last moment, right in front of the creature’s nose, and landed in front of Tony. He threw his hands up, shooting twin repulsor beams from his palms into the creature’s face while simultaneously conjuring a Seraphim shield. Crumpling to the ground, he kneeled over Tony, throwing his hands over his head and hoped he would have enough energy to hold the shield. He saw Tony’s eyes, huge and terrified as he looked up at the gaping, toothy jaws of the enormous beast, realizing that these could be their last moments.

** _Should I tell him?_ **

Stephen never had the chance, though, a piercing shriek ripping out of the creature’s mouth as it reared its head back, the suns of Cinnibus tearing through its scales and melting them into liquid silver. Stephen looked behind them to see Wong standing amongst the rubble, along with two other senior sorcerers, rings of Raggador at the ready. 

“Get out of here, Stephen!”, Wong yelled. “We can handle this!” 

Stephen didn’t hesitate, scooping Tony up in his arms and thrusting upwards with the boot repulsors. He wasn’t going overly fast (he wouldn’t take the risk of crashing with Tony in his arms), but the three blocks to the Metro-General only took a few minutes. But then fear suddenly spiked in his chest as he noticed that Tony was unconscious in his arms. He sat Tony down onto a snow-covered bench gently, quickly disengaging the suit, and shoved the housing unit into his back jeans pocket. 

“Hey”, he rasped, throat raw from yelling, kneeling down in front of Tony. “You with me, Tony?” The other man nodded numbly, trying to keep eye contact with Stephen as blood trickled out of his mouth. “Fuck”, Stephen breathed, hoisting Tony into his arms again without any regard for his hands, carrying him bridal style through the front doors of the hospital. 

The emergency room was alive with its usual bustle, but Stephen brushed past the reception area. That’s not what he was looking for. He somehow managed to extract his sling ring from his pocket without putting Tony down again, using his last ounce of energy to open a gateway to the seventh floor. Once there, he made a beeline for the nurse’s station.

“I need Doctor Palmer!”, he called, ignoring the looks from a few nurses as he half-ran down the hall with a bloody Tony Stark in his arms.

“Stephen? What the hell? I haven't seen you since April and you just show up here with-.” Christine cut herself short as she took in the site of Tony’s bloody form, eyes widening, and she wasted no time in directing Stephen to an examining room. 

Tony had drifted in and out of consciousness while Christine monitored his vitals, ensuring Stephen several times that he wasn’t on death’s door. There was no internal bleeding, no breaks, and no concussion. He should consider himself lucky. This didn’t stop Stephen from wringing his hands nervously as he watched Christine and a nurse examined him thoroughly. He busied himself by removing Levi’s tattered remains from his shoulders, muttering comfort as he cradled the fabric and promised to fix them as soon as possible. The cloak ‘nodded’ their collar sadly, jaggedly morphing into half a pocket square which Stephen tucked into his pocket gently. 

Nearly half an hour later, after all the bleeding had been stopped and a dose of morphine administered, Christine was stitching up a gash in Tony’s shoulder. Stephen watched her carefully, though if there were a pair of hands he trusted to take care of Tony other than his, they were hers. Silence filled the private room as they each sat on a side of the bed, Stephen wiping the blood off Tony’s face with a wet cloth. The soft touch seemed to bring Tony back around as his eyes flickered open, meeting Stephen’s face with a groggy grin.

“Hey, asshole.” 

Stephen’s heart stuttered in relief, eyes becoming misty as he returned the smile.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, douchebag”, Stephen rasped affectionately, and he could feel the confused look from Christine. 

“I tend to have that effect on people. Who’s this?”, Tony asked as he sat up a bit, wincing, noticing her presence in the same instant that he seemed to notice the sling holding his cybernetic arm to his chest. 

“Doctor Christine Palmer”, Stephen supplied, ignoring the frown from Christine for using her full title. She was the complete opposite of him in that way. “She’s my, uh-. We used to be-.”

“We used to date”, Christine said with a smile, saving him. “If you want to call it that. We’re strictly friends now.”

“You used to date _him_?”, Tony asked, eyebrows raised, pointing an accusing finger at Stephen. “That must have been a nightmare.” Stephen was momentarily crushed, before Tony gave him a quick wink, thereby reinstating his will to live.

“Well, if your current condition is anything to go by, you’re not getting off much easier”, Christine said with a small laugh, giving Stephen that teasing look he knew so well. 

“So, what happened?”, Tony asked, turning to Stephen. “Did we get that ugly snake back through its wormhole, or what? I thought I heard Wong at some point, but then I blacked out.”

“Wong and two other sorcerers got there”, Stephen confirmed. “Wong just texted me. They were able to handle it.”

Tony nodded, satisfied, though Stephen caught the fear flickering at the edges of his one good eye, wide and staring like when he had anxiety attacks.

“Are you alright, Tony?”, Stephen asked, voice hushed. Tony met him with an empty grin, eyes still a little glazed over.

“No, of course I’m not. I was just reminded of all my worst nightmares by some mystical space worm. But I’m alive.” Tony grinned for real. “Thanks to you, once again. And not that saving my life wasn’t enough, but I kind of feel like I’ve swallowed the Sahara desert.”

“I’ll get you some water”, Stephen offered with a small eye roll, and stood from the bed, surprised when Christine followed him out of the room. “Can you stay and watch him?”, Stephen asked, perfectly aware of the worry bleeding into his voice, especially as Christine gave him a patient smile.

“He’s not in critical condition, and he’s not a child. I think he can survive five seconds without you.”

“That’s debatable”, Stephen grumbled, ignoring the quirked brow this prompted from Christine. Stephen grabbed a jug of water and a plastic cup, ignoring the pain racing up the metal pins in his hands, and noticed the thoughtful look on his friend’s face. “What is it?”

“Should we call his wife?”

“They’re separated”, Stephen said quickly. Too quickly. He didn’t want Pepper here.

“Still”, Christine insisted. “They were married. If she still cares about him, she might want to know.”

“She’ll make it worse. She’ll just yell at him for being reckless, then he’ll get upset, and-.” He paused when Christine gave him a weird look, hands on her hips as she tilted her head, her smile a little too smug. “What?”

“Wow. You are so gone on him, aren’t you?” Stephen stopped dead in the middle of the hall, but quickly recovered.

“What? What do you mean? You’re crazy”, he said convincingly, hiding the nervous waver in his voice completely. “What makes you think that?” Christine sighed, crossing her arms and holding him under her gaze.

“Stephen”, she said patiently. “You look at the man like he hung the stars in the sky.”

“Shut up”, Stephen snapped half-heartedly, but said nothing to disprove her statement. “And don’t mention stars. He hates space”, he informed her quickly before heading back into the room. Tony was sitting up, scrolling on his phone with his left hand, cybernetic arm still trussed up in a sling. He looked up with a half-smile as Stephen walked around to the left side of the bed.

“Thanks”, Tony said as Stephen handed him the cup of water he had poured, sitting on the edge of the bed as Tony drank.

“How’s the arm feel?”

“Morphine is my best friend”, Tony grumbled sarcastically. “I’m gonna have to take another trip to Wakanda, get it checked out.” Stephen nodded, already visualizing his schedule so he could make time to tag along when Tony went to Africa. 

“Were you telling Rhodey or anyone about what happened?”, Stephen asked, indicating Tony’s phone, miraculously intact after the battle. **_Please don’t tell Pepper, please don’t tell Pepper, please don’t tell-._**

“No”, Tony said decisively. “I’d like a few seconds of piece before I get my ear torn off by Rhodey and Happy for being an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot”, Stephen muttered, tracing a finger down the scars on his own hand. God, his hands hurt. Carrying Tony without a protective spell had absolutely wrecked them.

“I think just about every single person on Earth would disagree with you.” They shared a small grin, Stephen trying to hide a blush as Tony studied his face. “You still hanging on to my heart, Doc?” Stephen’s head whipped up, heart pounding.

“Pardon?”

Tony responded by tapping the centre of his own chest twice.

“Oh. Right, sorry.” Stephen stood a little so he could dig the nano housing arc reactor out of his back jeans pocket, placing it in Tony’s outstretched palm gently, his heart pounding in slight disappointment. Tony just shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, you ridiculous wizard.” His voice was too soft. Oh, god, Stephen was going to melt under his tender gaze, Tony’s good eye like burning chocolate and coffee as he watched him. “You did a pretty good in the suit”, Tony said appreciatively. “Most people struggle with even getting the hand repulsors to work on their first go.” Stephen had a feeling he knew who ‘most people’ was. It’s not like Tony let just anybody use one of his suits. 

“It’s pretty intuitive”, Stephen admitted. “Though I did almost run head first into a building, so…” This prompted a chuckle from Tony as he reached a hand out to rest on Stephen’s knee, mouth opening like he was about to say something.

“Tony!”

Stephen jumped up from the bed, spinning around and moving to the foot of the bed automatically, taking up a defensive stance between Tony and the door. His heart sunk when he saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Tony, what the hell happened?!”, Pepper screeched. “I thought you were at the house so I could bring Morgan over, when you’re actually in the city fighting God knows what with _him_?!”, she yelling, pointing an accusing finger at Stephen. “Silly me, right?! You have a daughter, Tony! You can’t just go and get yourself killed!” She brushed past the sorcerer like he wasn’t even there, bearing down on Tony as he practically sunk back against the pillows, trying to maintain distance between them. 

“Well, _excuse me_ for not just running the other way, Pepper! That’s not exactly my style, you know that. And how the hell did you even know about that?”, Tony asked, a defensive light in his eyes. Pepper flipped her phone out with an enormous eye roll, showing him a video of Iron Man shooting repulsors at the monstrous, snake-like creature.

“It’s all over the news, Tony, what do you think?! And the hospital called me. Not that you had bothered to!”

“I’m not your problem anymore, Pep! You could have just ignored it. And who called you? I’m not even in the system”, Tony asked, indignant.

“I did”, Christine said from the doorway with wide eyes, eyeing Pepper like she was trying to decide whether she needed to call security or not. Stephen could only shoot her an unimpressed look as he watched Pepper round on Tony again. Stephen played with his pendant nervously as he watched them, and feeling dreadfully out of place, headed for the doorway.

“Stephen!”, Tony called over Pepper’s furious yelling at him, attempting to keep her voice hushed as Christine lingered in the hall almost protectively. “Don’t leave.” Stephen stopped dead, heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest. Pepper turned and looked at him, blue eyes snapping with hate and shock.

“Okay”, Stephen managed to rasp, avoiding eye contact with Pepper as he walked back to his previous position at Tony’s bedside. The fuming blonde just glared at him from across the bed, like it was the only thing keeping her from ripping his throat out. 

“I’m still good to have Morgan over for the weekend”, Tony spoke up, trying to split the tension in the air. 

“Don’t be ridiculous”, Pepper growled.

“I’m fine”, Tony insisted. “No concussion, no internal bleeding, no breaks, no nothing.”

“No way”, Pepper said, brow arched.

“Yes way”, Tony said, increasingly desperate, and Stephen could hear the hint of fear in his voice as he no doubt imagined the possibility of Pepper keeping their daughter from him. “I’m okay. He can vouch for me, he’s a doctor”, he said, pointing up at Stephen “Doc?”

“Yes. He-he’s fine”, Stephen said, clearing his throat. “I’d feel comfortable discharging him right now.”

“See? How about that”, Tony said, voice almost giddy with nerves, but pushing a casual mask over it. He threw the covers off his legs and clambered out of the bed less gracefully than he might have liked. “We can head out right now. Doc? You’re coming over?” It was meant to be a question, but the secret look Tony threw him made it out to be a decisive plead. 

“Yes. Of course”, Stephen said in disbelief, heart pounding as Pepper gaped between them. 

“This is ridiculous”, Pepper muttered as she trailed them out of the room, standing about a dozen feet away as Christine helped Tony get discharged quickly at the reception desk. Stephen stood off to his right shoulder, arms crossed defensively while trying to avoid eye contact with Pepper.

“I’m sorry”, Christine muttered to Tony as he filled out a discharge form. “Stephen warned me, but I didn’t think that she’d be like that”, she said, sending a discreet glance in the blonde’s direction.

“It’s okay”, Tony soothed, struggling to write with his left hand. “She’s, uh, she’s just stressed out. I’d yell at me too, if I could.” Christine just gave him a pitying grimace as she took the paperwork back from him.

“Well, good luck with that then. Hopefully I don’t see you two here again, though I wouldn’t mind a lunch with you guys sometime, Stephen”, Christine said pointedly, winking once Tony’s back was turned, and Stephen could only give her a chiding look at he trailed Tony.

“Sure thing, Christine. Thanks for everything.”

The elevator ride down to the main floor was the most painfully awkward two minutes Stephen had ever been through, with Tony acting as a barrier between he and Pepper.

“What the hell were you two fighting anyway?”, Pepper couldn’t help but ask as they reached the main floor and left the elevator, her phone bombarded by news updates. 

“No idea”, Tony replied casually, shivering as they stepped out the front doors, the snow still falling thickly in the cold wind of the early evening. By Stephen’s miraculously intact watch (of course it hadn’t broken, Tony made it), it was only 4:30, but the snow clouds had gathered, blocking out any remaining sun the day had to offer. 

“So, you’ll go grab Morgan? Bring her over?”, Tony clarified, turning to Pepper.

“I still think it’s a bad idea. How are you even going to manage to make dinner for her with one arm? And while drugged up on painkillers?”, Pepper asked challengingly, crossing her arms. 

“Stephen will help”, Tony said assuredly, not breaking eye contact with her as he wrapped his good arm around Stephen’s shoulders. He didn’t even look at Stephen to clarify. They both knew he would help Tony, he always would. The sorcerer shivered a little under the other man’s touch, telling himself it was the cold winter wind. He also didn’t fail to notice how right it felt to be pressed against Tony’s side, his strong arm holding him tight against him, his warm hand brushing the exposed skin of his neck slightly. Underneath the physical assault on his attraction for Tony, his heart was about to pour out his chest, barely able to believe what he had just heard. 

Tony had chosen him over Pepper. Openly. Without fear or light-hearted jokes to hide how sincere he was being. 

The look Pepper gave them both in response was absolutely scathing, brow furrowed, though she looked too tired to fight it.

“Fine. I’ll bring her over. But the second something goes wrong, I’m coming to get her.”

“Fine”, Tony said, his arm still around Stephen.

“And you call me if you need help, got it?” Her words were formed as a question, but they all knew it was a command.

“Like I said, I have Stephen”, Tony said, voice overly sweet. Stephen couldn’t remember how to breathe. “And if we need help, I’ll call Happy. Enjoy your weekend off.” 

Before Pepper could respond, there was a sudden explosion of gold sparks above the sidewalk which Stephen and Tony recognized immediately, though Pepper jumped a little, hand over her mouth as she stifled a yelp. The gateway enlarged and opened up quickly, Wong stepping through and regarding the trio calmly as the gateway snapped shut behind him.

“You’re alive”, Stephen rasped with a grin, grateful to see his friend uninjured. Wong just raised an eyebrow in response, though the corner of his mouth twitched with something that could have been a smile.

“No thanks to you”, Wong teased, holding out a tattered mess of red cloth in his hand. “Here’s the rest of your cloak. I think you dropped it.” Stephen gathered up the pieces with shaking fingers, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Thank you” he rasped gratefully, jumping a little as Tony walked past him and pulled Wong into a one-armed hug. The sorcerer simply froze in the other man’s embrace, patting his back tentatively before Tony pulled back.

“We owe you one, buddy”, Tony said as he gripped Wong’s shoulder quickly. “I’ve never seen such good timing in my life.”

“Yeah, alright”, Wong said uncomfortably, but Stephen had known him long enough to recognize the pleased twinkle in his eye. “Just get home in one piece, you two. Or I’m going to have to kick your asses.”

“We will”, Tony assured. “We could actually use a quick portal, though, if you don’t mind. Stephen’s out of juice and I left my car back in the Village.”

“Out of juice?”, Stephen asked, slightly exasperated. 

“You’re not driving”, Pepper said suddenly, still regarding Wong nervously out of the corner of her eye. “You only have one working arm.”

“Yes, I am driving, actually”, Tony said, frustrated hysteria working its way into his voice while Wong opened a gateway without question,. “Like I said, I have Stephen. He’s not going to let anything happen to me.” Stephen’s chest was absolutely brimming with joy at Tony’s words, finally feeling like he had really gained Tony’s trust. He tried his best to hide his grin as Pepper frowned at them. The three men stepped through the gateway without another word, walking out onto the ravaged rubble of the street where their battle with the snake creature had occurred.

“Hey, Wong”, Tony said, voice casual despite the way his eyes were flicking around nervously, like he expected the creature to still be hiding behind one of the buildings. “Any idea what that thing was?”

“It was a Khimbadi. Predatory space carnivore that lives in the nebulas of the world Hirrin. Seems like something accidentally tore a hole between dimensions and it made its way through”, Wong explained, surveying their surroundings himself. First responders milled about, tending to the few people who had been injured in the relatively well-contained fight, while the Stark Disaster Relief organization was already clearing rubble from the streets. Stephen felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he thought of that creature, thought of how close it had been to killing him and Tony, and had to blink rapidly to keep the tears from forming in his eyes. He saw Tony shiver, probably with similar thoughts, and chanced an arm around his shoulders, heart stuttering with relief when Tony pressed into him instead of pulling away. 

“This your car?”, Wong called, pointing to the red Audi, its hood dented by an enormous chunk of concrete which had landed on it. 

“Fuck”, was Tony’s only response as he walked over, watching as Wong used a spell to lift the huge piece of rubble, shimmering orange energy tossing it off to the side. The other sorcerer then contorted his fingers with several precise movements, lifting up the dented metal so it was once again flawlessly flush with the body of the car. “Wow”, Tony breathed, walking up to run an appreciate hand over the metallic red paint where the dent had been. “Thanks, Wong.”

“Alright”, Wong grumbled, not used to being thanked this much. “I have to go and make sure that rift isn’t going to open up again.” He caught Stephen’s eye, who was uncertain if he should be offering to help with the task, since it was his job, after all. “You go rest, Stephen. You’ve earned it”, he said simply, opening a gateway and stepping through it before Tony had the chance to try and hug him again. 

“Prickly man”, Tony commented thoughtfully with a half-grin, gesturing for Stephen to get into the passenger side. “He’s a good guy, though.”

“To say the least”, Stephen agreed. He paused in front of the car, not realizing the situation he had put himself in until that moment. His brain had been too scrambled with adrenaline, fear, and worry for Tony to realize that he would have to get in a car in order to get back to the cabin with Tony. He was weak and beyond exhausted, definitely in no condition to open a gateway of any size. And he wasn’t about to call Wong back now, just because he was afraid of being in a car. Not seeing any other options, Stephen opened the passenger door with his trembling, aching fingers and climbed in. 

“You okay?”, Tony asked, noticing how stiff Stephen was as they began to drive, navigating the rubble blocking most of the street.

“Fine”, Stephen choked out, feeling his heart rate climb by the second. “Do you - do you think you could drive a little slower than usual? Just because of your arm”, he added, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice the way he was shaking.

“Sure”, Tony said, not offended, but looking uncertain. “I didn’t know it bothered you.” There was a beat of silence. “Hey, I just noticed that you’ve never been in the car with me. What’s with that?”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve been able to drive much until about three months ago”, Stephen pointed out, his voice shaking a little. His natural urge was to grip the handle of the door, but he knew his wrecked hands wouldn’t be able to take that.

“Right”, Tony agreed, looking ahead grimly, and silence fell between them as they headed up through Manhattan, turning the radio off when every station was reporting on the space creature attack in Greenwich Village. It was until they were heading across the George Washington Bridge that Tony spoke up again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Stephen’s mind scrambled, panicking as he tried to decide which _‘it’_ Tony was referring to. The space creature attack? Almost dying (again)? Tony sticking up for Stephen unabashedly in front of Pepper, despite all her yelling?

“Uh…”

“Joan’s been trying to get me to talk about how I feel about things, instead of just burying it deep. Bad habit, I guess”, Tony chuckled bitterly, keeping his eyes on the road. “I know I haven’t been very good at talking with you about stuff, ‘cause hell knows there’s a lot we could talk about.” This didn’t help Stephen, though his heart was fluttering with the possibility of what Tony could mean. “I mean, we talk all the time, but never about the really traumatic stuff and…I - it’s hard, but I feel like it would help us deal with this all better if we just…tried to put it into words a bit? I don’t know”, he said carefully, glancing over at Stephen. “Hey, are you okay?”

Stephen nodded even as he could feel a panic attack ripping through his entire body, heart racing, lungs gasping for air that wouldn’t be enough. God damn his freaking crash trauma, Tony had just been offering the most honesty and openness Stephen had ever seen from him. What a perfect time to have an anxiety attack.

“What’s wrong? Do you need me to pull over?” Stephen could only shake his head. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs to speak. Jagged metal, squealing tires, rain heavy on the windshield, the flash of lights before he was clipped and sent spinning. His hands colliding with the dashboard, bones splintering like toothpicks. Pain. So much pain. It was never going to stop. Blood dripping down his face as he hung from his seatbelt, the churning of water as it made its way into the car. His hands trembled now, stressed and aching and stretched beyond capacity from when he had carried Tony. Spinning, crashing, falling. **_Fuck._**

“Stephen?” Tony’s voice was strained with worry now. “It’s okay. That thing isn’t going to hurt anyone. You’re fine. Wong dealt with it, remember? We’re okay.” He was trying to help, but he didn’t understand. Stephen felt guilty for stressing him out after what they had just been through, but maybe he could try to explain. 

“No. It’s - car, the car”, Stephen managed to force through his dry, airless throat.

“What about the car?”, Tony asked, checking the dashboard. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Steph.” But Stephen couldn’t respond, couldn’t correct him, resorting to closing his eyes and hunching forward in his seat. “Alright, we’re pulling over”, Tony said, doing exactly that as soon as they were across the bridge, maneuvering the car over smoothly despite using only one arm. 

Stephen could barely breathe at this point, gasping for breath as tears rolled down his cheeks. **_Shit, shit, shit, why do I have to be like this? Just get over it already. _**He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling him back into a sitting position as Tony twisted around in his seat so he could reach him with his good arm. 

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”, Tony asked, voice hushed, careful. “Look at me. This isn’t about the…whatever the hell Wong called it?” Stephen could only shake his head again, heart pounding through his ribcage as he gasped for breath. His hands hurt, his chest hurt, everything in him ached from using too much magic and getting thrown around in the suit. He dropped his head again, slumping forward to drop his head in his hands again, only for Tony’s hand to catch his cheek instead. A gentle, calloused thumb wiped the tears from his cheek as Tony pulled his gaze up again.

“Hey. Look at me. You’re safe. Just tell me what’s going on. Let me help, Steph.”

“The car, I-.” Stephen’s voice croaked terribly with his tears and he stopped himself. “My accident…was in a car.” He could see the confusion swimming in Tony’s eyes, worried and searching his face. He had never told Tony how he got the scars on his hands, why they shook so terribly, why they were so weak, and Tony had never asked. He knew what it was like to have things from your past that hurt too much to talk about, so they became secrets. “My hands”, Stephen rasped quietly, lifting them up slowly, so the trembling, scarred backs of them were facing Tony. 

“Your-? Oh. Oh, wow.” Tony’s shocked expression quickly turned indignant. “You have car-related trauma and you didn’t say anything before getting into a car with me?”

“Sorry”, Stephen breathed, the conversation distracting him as he felt his heart rate settling.

“No, no. It’s fine, Steph. I just…it’s me. I just wish I had known. Wish you had told me.” Stephen tried very hard to ignore how Tony’s good hand was brushing one of his, gentle fingers just barely grazing his one hand rested on the centre console. 

“I’m fine”, he said suddenly, straightening up, but not moving his hand. Tony didn’t move either. Tony’s eyes met his in a challenge, gauging his mental state with careful eyes. 

“Alright. But tell me if you want me to pull over again.” Stephen nodded, heart dipping when Tony pulled his hand away so he could drive, but rested his elbow on the centre console instead, as his cybernetic arm was still trussed up in a sling against his chest. Whether he did it on purpose or accidentally, Stephen was grateful either way, the contact of cool metal against his fingertips keeping his anxiety attack from resurfacing. 

They drove in relative silence as Stephen focused on keeping his breathing steady, heading through Union City before Tony spoke.

“So…your accident. When’d it happen?” Stephen took a deep breath, noticing the careful respect in Tony’s voice.

“February 2nd, 2016.”

Stephen ended up telling him everything, right from the beginning.

He told him about the accident, how his own recklessness had cost him what he thought was the most valuable part of his life. His hands. He described the crash, not in excruciating detail, but enough that Tony looked over at him with tears in his eyes, looking like he wanted to pull him into a crushing hug. Stephen wished they weren’t driving. He told him about his recovery, or lack thereof, of his frantic, deranged search for someone who could fix his hands, by any means possible. He told him how he had spent every last cent he had, searching and reaching for a cure that wouldn’t come. He told him about Christine, even, that rainy day when he had yelled at her, crossing the line which for a lesser person would have been the definite end of their friendship. But, as evidenced by her help and care today, Christine was more forgiving than Stephen knew he would ever deserve. 

Stephen told him about his one-way trip to Nepal, meeting Mordo, his arrogance upon meeting the Ancient One, all that he thought he used to know making him blind to the possibilities standing in front of him. He told Tony how months and months of training, studying, practicing, hard challenges, an impromptu trip to Everest, sparring with Mordo, and interrogating Wong in the library had shaped him into the person he was today. He told him about Kaecillius, the fight in the Sanctum, the fight in New York, the Ancient One’s death. Stephen teared up as he recounted their goodbye, when they had stood in the astral plane watching the snow and lightning. Tony had placed a comforting hand on his arm when they came to a red light, not meeting his tear-filled eyes, but offering silent, steady comfort.

Finally he told him about the attack on the Hong Kong Sanctum. 

He told him about using the Time Stone, about setting up a time loop as he entered the Dark Dimension.

He told him about facing Dormammu, feeling so alone despite Levi’s comforting weight holding him up. Never before had he felt like such a tiny, momentary speck in an indifferent universe. 

Tears rolled down Stephen’s face, voice shaking as he told Tony about dying, over and over and over. He couldn’t remember how many times he had lived that moment, trying to convince the dark entity to agree to a bargain which would save Earth. Silence fell between them in the car after Stephen had explained the outcome of the bargain, the demise of Kaecillius and his zealots, and Mordo’s furious abandonment. 

It took the full two hour drive for him to tell him everything, Stephen’s heart lightening a little as he unloaded at least some of his traumatic past. Tony had been mostly silent as he recounted the most influential time of his life, only speaking occasionally to offer encouragement, assurance to keep going. He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t offer verbal comfort, just listened intently, sometimes as his eyes glistened with tears.

“Thank you for telling me”, Tony finally muttered as they turned onto the backroads of Upstate New York, twenty minutes outside of Bethel. “You didn’t have to, of course, but I’m…glad you did.” 

Stephen could only nod in acknowledgment, heart thudding with the realization that Tony accepted his trauma, his brokenness, his disjointed past. He settled into the comfort of the knowledge that Tony’s reaction was the exact opposite of the fear and disgust he had admittedly expected. Not from Tony, though. Never from Tony. That’s just how most people reacted. People didn’t like broken, didn’t know how to handle how broken he was, how he had gone through several dozen lifetimes in one. 

They finally pulled onto the dirt country road which led to the cabin and Stephen was hit with the overwhelming feeling of coming home. He hadn’t had that feeling since late night drives back from camping in Nebraska, half asleep in the back seat amongst coolers and sleeping bags, leaning on Victor’s shoulder while Donna used his lap as a pillow. He had been twelve then, now here he was, thirty one years later, rattling down the country road in a car that was too smooth for the slush and dirt, that same feeling infiltrating his chest like some long-forgotten fever dream. 

“We’re home”, Tony mumbled under his breath, to himself more than anything, like he had been reading Stephen’s mind. 

They pulled into the driveway and Stephen’s heart thumped with relief, like he’d been worried they might not get there, like it might be too good to be true that Tony actually wanted him over like this. The winding, tree-lined driveway gave way to the open front yard, the cabin looking welcoming and covered in fresh snow as they pulled into the garage. Stephen gathered the pieces of Levi gently as he stepped out of the car and left the garage, hearing Tony’s door close behind him as he turned his face up into the gently falling snow.

“Stephen”, Tony called to him gently, and the sorcerer turned to see him standing in his dirty and bloodied sweater, watching Stephen’s face with a heartbroken expression. “Come here.” He held out his good arm and Stephen met his embrace readily, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face in Tony’s neck as he shook. The winter wind was cold, but he trembled for another reason as Tony rubbed a comforting hand up and down his back, just holding him silently. They’d almost lost each other. Stephen tried to block out that thought, forehead resting on Tony’s shoulder as they rocked slightly in the heavily falling snow.

“C’mon”, Tony finally said, voice rough with tears, pulling back from the hug only to wrap his good arm around the sorcerer’s shoulders again. Stephen could get used to that. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s get a fire going, get something to eat.” They walked up the front steps together and went inside, and Stephen was struck by the silence of the house as, for what felt like the first time ever, Morgan didn’t run to greet him. 

“It’s quiet”, Stephen muttered numbly, and Tony could only nod in agreement as he kicked his boots off.

“Rhodey’s been over a lot. Peter too”, Tony explained, and Stephen felt a jolt of misplaced guilt, for not being here, even when he hadn’t been wanted. “Guest bathroom’s upstairs”, Tony directed, pointing up the stairs for good measure. “There are towels in there on the rack. Have a shower, bath, whatever you want, but if you feel half as disgusting as I do it’s a good idea.”

“Thank you”, Stephen said with a small chuckle, watching as Tony struggled to pull his sweater off with one arm.

“I’m gonna shower and then get dinner started before Morgan gets here. If I can get this goddamn-.”

“Here, let me.” Stephen stepped forward and pulled the sleeve down Tony’s good arm, helping him gently and slowly pull it over his head, ignoring the sharp jabs of pain running through his hands.

“Thanks”, Tony grumbled appreciatively. “I feel like a four-year-old again, but thanks.”

They made their way up the stairs side-by-side, like they were both scared of the other falling or something equally ridiculous. Or maybe they didn’t want to let the other out of their sight. Stephen knew he didn’t. He’d keep watch over Tony every second for the rest of his life if he let him, so long as it meant that he would never get hurt again. But he’d have to withstand losing sight of Tony for at least ten minutes as he went into the master suite and Stephen found the guest bathroom

He locked the door, surveying his haggard appearance in the mirror for about three seconds before turning the shower on. He quickly stripped of his bloody, dirty, still semi-damp clothes, toeing his jeans off and pulling his turtleneck over his head, gasping as pain suddenly wracked his hands. Sighing to himself, he took Levi out of his dirty jeans pocket, figuring it would be safe to leave them, and the rest of their scattered pieces Wong had collected, on the vanity counter. He just didn’t have the energy to magically repair them right now. Leaving his arc reactor pendant on, as always, Stephen stepped under the hot stream of water, gasping at the contact. The warmth was welcome as it massaged his aching muscles, washing the grime out of the cuts he hadn’t been able to get at while half dressed in Tony’s hospital room. He turned his face up into the stream from the shower head, letting the thrumming of the water drown out the intrusive thoughts. 

_‘TONY!’_

_Tony being thrown across the pavement, skidding to a stop in a sickening heap of red and gold, not moving._

“Shut up. Please”, Stephen growled desperately, pushing his hands against the wall to steady himself despite the jolts of electricity which travelled up his fingers. “He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay.” 

He chanted this to himself, head bowed in the stream of water, until he was able to block out the recent memories enough to carefully lather his hair in shampoo. Desperate to forget the day, at least for the moment, he allowed himself to imagine Tony’s strong, steady hands working through his hair instead of his useless, pain-riddled ones. He let himself think about big, caring eyes looking at him lovingly as Tony held him. He would tell Stephen to relax as he worked his fingers over his scalp, cradled his head gently. Stephen let his head fall back into the stream of water, imaging Tony brushing the shampoo away from his face, making sure it didn’t go in his eyes while gentle, calloused fingers brushing his cheek. He imagined Tony pressed against him as water streamed over them, holding him in those big arms, protective, possessive-.

Stephen cut off his own thoughts before his mind went too far, sighing heavily, rinsing the last of the soap from his body, from the cuts running diluted red down his sides and back. He turned the water off almost reluctantly, stepping out onto the bathmat and grabbing a towel before he dripped water and blood everywhere. It was only then that Stephen realized he didn’t have anything to change into, sighing as he wrapped the towel around his waist. Maybe Tony would let him throw his stuff in the wash, he thought, opening the bathroom door and walking down the hall to the master bedroom.

“Hey, Tony!”, he called through the closed door, not wanting to subject his hands to trying to knock loudly enough. “My clothes are a mess, I was wondering if I could-.” Stephen nearly choked when the door opened and Tony peered out, hair wet from his own shower. Stephen immediately grabbed the top of his towel so there wasn’t any chance of it falling.

“Steph, I didn’t-.” Stephen was almost delighted to see the heavy blush making its way across Tony’s face, the other man doing his best to keep his eyes off the sorcerer’s bare chest. It wasn’t until that moment that Stephen was reminded of all the scars that crossed his chest and abdomen, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. “Uh, shit. Sorry, I should have thought to get you some clothes beforehand. Here, let me - let me grab you something”, Tony offered, clearly flustered as he disappeared back into his room. He reappeared a minute later with a worn band tee, a large hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants.

“This is the biggest stuff I have”, Tony said as he handed over the stack of clothing, and his eyes definitely lingered on Stephen’s chest this time. “I still doubt the pants will be long enough, though.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine”, Stephen assured, giving him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Stephen waited until he was back in the bathroom to give into the smile he was fighting, slumping against the door as it spread over his face, chuckling slightly. Despite this, he tried not to think about the implications of Tony’s reaction as he pulled on the clothes, more careful with his hands this time. The pants were definitely a little short, but the MIT hoodie was large enough that it was big even on Stephen, making him feel safe and warm. He checked his hair before deciding that he didn’t care what it looked like, and that the various large cuts scattered around his body were of more importance, so rustled around in the bathroom cabinet for some large band-aids which he slapped on some of the more concerning wounds.

When he made his way downstairs, Tony was already in the kitchen, fiddling with the coffee maker with an impatient frown. He also wore a pair of light grey track pants, and a faded band tee much like the one he’d given Stephen to wear. He sent the sorcerer an amused glance as Stephen walked into the kitchen, turning to him with a grin as he surveyed Stephen’s borrowed outfit.

“Sorry I didn’t have any old man cardigans to lend you”, Tony said lightly, his casual tone betrayed by the twinkle in his eyes. Stephen bypassed the comment with a small eye roll for show, though his heart was practically swelling with warmth. All he could think about was how relieved he was that Tony was still standing there, grinning teasingly at him, making fun of his fashion choices. Today could have ended so much worse.

“So, what’s the plan for dinner?”

“I was originally thinking of quiche, but after today, I need a freaking burger.”

“Freaking burgers it is”, Stephen nodded, trying to ignore how soft Tony’s hair looked when it wasn’t styled. “Could we maybe have a freaking salad also? I’ll make it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Steph”, Tony insisted, shoving his arm gently, trying to steer him out of the kitchen. “Go sit and chill. Or see if you can work some magic with the coffee maker.”

“_You_ don’t be ridiculous”, Stephen growled back, tapping his shoulder where he _knew_ there weren't any injuries. “I’m not sitting and watching you cook, crazy man.” They stared each other down for a few seconds, too close and both smelling clean with scented soap, so close that Stephen could feel Tony’s breath on his bare neck. 

“Fine. You can make a salad, though you may lose Morgan’s love forever.” Stephen huffed as the tension broke he and went over to the fridge, taking out lettuce and different assorted vegetables.

“I seriously doubt that, but I’ll take my chances.”

He could feel Tony’s grin directed at him before he went to wrestle with the coffee maker again. The moment felt surreal, falling back into their old banter like they hadn’t almost died today. It was easier not to think about it yet, not when they were both still swimming in shock, past trauma bubbling to the surface as the battle reminded them both of so many others. Tony would look over his shoulder every few minutes, checking to make sure the sorcerer was making out alright with chopping vegetables, like he was saying,_ ‘Just making sure you’re still there. I can’t believe I almost lost you today.’_

They talked quietly as they flowed about the kitchen, drinking coffee that Tony finally got brewed, offering Stephen a few painkillers to help with his hands, Stephen occasionally asking where things were (Tony had rearranged the kitchen since Pepper moved out), and helping each other with things that you couldn’t do with one hand or two weak ones. Tony opened an olive jar while Stephen pulled apart lettuce, floating in the euphoria of each other’s company enough to joke about their disabilities for once. They fell back into their usual quips and gentle sarcasm like they always did when it was just them, like their relationship hadn’t been disrupted by unfortunate months apart, misunderstandings, debilitating pain, and the end of a marriage. They could always fall back into this, because it was easy and right and made Stephen realize that there was someone else in the world who knew him even better than he knew himself. He was pulled out of his reverie, though, as Tony clicked his tongue at him. 

“Stephen, you’re bleeding.”

“What? Where?”

“On the back of your head.” Tony grabbed some paper towel from the roll on the counter. “How the hell did you get cut there?”

“I don’t know”, Stephen sighed, setting the knife down and stooped forward a little so Tony could reach better. Then he remembered. “When I was in the suit. I banked hard to get back to you and I must have hit my head.” Tony just shook his head quietly, though in sympathy as he continued to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s not too deep”, he assured, though worry seeped into his voice again. 

“This can’t be sanitary”, Stephen commented, gesturing to the cutting board full of vegetables. 

“Okay, c’mon. Let’s sit in the living room, then.” Tony lead him out of the kitchen, still holding the paper towel, hand cupping the back of Stephen’s neck. They sat down on the sofa together, Tony sitting close, pressing against the still seeping wound as Stephen leaned forward on his knees. He kept his breathing steady under the warm weight of Tony’s arm on his back.

“Thanks”, he muttered, turning a little to look at Tony.

“Don’t thank _me_, dumbass”, Tony muttered affectionately. “You’re the one who saved my ass in that suit. Most people would have died using it the first time.” Stephen’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah, but you don’t let ‘most people’ use your suits in the first place.”

“True enough. Rhodey and Pepper are the only ones who’ve used them. Well, Peter too”, he said, that smile spreading across his face like it did whenever he talked about his kid. Stephen nodded in agreement, before pausing as he realized something. 

“Wait. How did _I_ use the suit, then? Rhodey’s told me that you only have them coded to certain people to prevent unauthorized use.” He looked over his shoulder again and Tony looked embarrassed, like a small child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Tony?”

“Okay. I coded the suits to you”, he admitted, eyes trained on the floor to avoid eye contact. Stephen couldn’t breathe as he took in the meaning of his words.

“You what?”, he asked, his voice hushed with awe. 

“It made sense, okay?”, Tony insisted casually. “You’ve already shown that you’d go the extra mile to protect Morgan with the whole pendant thing. And well, you and I, we’re-. You’re practically family.” Stephen’s eyes filled with tears of their own accord, and he ducked his head to hide them.

“God, Tony…”

“Hey, hey”, Tony soothed, deciding the blood flow had been staunched enough, dropping the paper towel on the coffee table, and wrapping his arm around the sorcerer’s shaking shoulders. Stephen couldn’t help but lean in to his touch a little. “Look at me, Stephen.” Stephen complied, eyes glittering with tears as he met Tony’s eyes.

“I’m sorry if I ever gave you reason to doubt it, but you’re family”, Tony assured. Their faces were inches apart and Stephen could feel the weight of his closeness, heart thudding furiously in his chest. “I trust you with my life, to say the least.”

There was a sudden knock on the door and they both jumped a little, Tony pulling his arm from around Stephen’s shoulders.

“That’ll be Pepper with Morgan”, Tony rasped, giving Stephen a reassuring look before standing. Stephen followed him, chest feeling a little empty as he grabbed the paper towel from the coffee table. He ducked into the kitchen and threw out the bloodied paper towel, listening as Tony greeted his daughter and ex-wife.

“Hey, Moguna! How’s my girl? Why don’t you go in the kitchen? We have a surprise visitor.”

“You’re not seriously letting that man stay over, are you?”, Stephen heard Pepper ask, but he didn’t have time to feel crushed or hear Tony’s answer, as there was an excited screech and a blur of purple as Morgan spotted him.

“Doc!”

Tears welled in Stephen’s eyes again, dropping to his knees as Morgan barrelled into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her as she buried her face in his shoulder.

“Oh, darling. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”, he chuckled tiredly, tears trailing down his cheeks even as he smiled hugely. “I’ve missed you.”

“I haven’t seen you since Christmas!”, Morgan expressed in dismay, confirming that she had missed him too. Then she seemed to notice his tear-streaked face. “Why are you sad, Doc?”

“I’m not sad”, Stephen assured, wiping his eyes quickly. “I promise these are happy tears. I’m just happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too”, she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, placing a tiny kiss on his cheek. God, she was so much like her dad.

“Hey, Moguna, you’re not making the Doc cry are you?”

“He’s okay, they’re happy tears”, Morgan informed Tony as he walked into the kitchen, helping Stephen to his feet as he gripped his forearm with his good hand.

“They are, hmm?”, Tony asked as he pulled Stephen up, pulling his arm against his own chest, meeting his eyes with cautious worry. “You okay?”, he whispered, almost against Stephen’s lips, making Stephen wonder how the hell he was still conscious. His pounding heart made it so he could only nod, but Tony seemed to accept this, squeezing his shoulder with one hand before turning to Morgan.

“Why don’t you go get your boots and coat off, little miss? We’re having cheeseburgers.”

“Yay! Cheeseburgers!”

“And salad”, Tony warned. “Doc’s orders.”

“Salad is good for you”, Morgan informed her dad as she sat down to take her snow boots off.

“Told you she’d still love me”, Stephen said with a small smirk as Tony gaped.

“My own flesh and blood turning against me, I can’t believe this.”

*****

Dinner mostly consisted of Morgan telling her dad about her day and catching Stephen up on all the big, important things of the past few months, as both men were too hungry and tired to devote much energy to conversation. They were also extremely relieved when she didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t comment on the several visible scratches on both their faces, a clear breaking of the promise Tony had made to Morgan about not going back to work. But dinner passed peacefully as they all sat at the kitchen table, Stephen and Tony side-by-side on the bench while Morgan sat in her special higher chair on the other side of the table. Besides the occasional appreciative ‘hmm’ or the odd question for Morgan, Stephen ate in silence, trying to think of the last time food had tasted this good. Tony was truly a master at cheeseburgers, even pan-grilled as they were, made even larger and with more cheese than usual. They’d earned it after today. 

“And Cassie said I couldn’t do it, but then I made it all the way across the monkey bars, even with my mittens on!”, Morgan told them excitedly between bites of her burger. Stephen couldn’t imagine where she got her hyper-verbal tendencies from. 

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive, Moguna”, Tony said appreciatively, quirking a brow at Stephen as the sorcerer pushed the salad bowl towards him. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll have salad, Doc. Keep your pants on.” **_No guarantees_**, Stephen thought, nearly jumping out of his skin as Tony’s thigh brushed against his. Purposefully. He tried to divert his thoughts elsewhere, as Morgan was guaranteed to notice his blush, but then Tony did it again. And then kept his leg there. Focusing on steadying his heart rate, Stephen tried to relax, just enjoying the warmth of the innocent contact through their track pants. He didn’t dare meet Tony’s eyes until they were done eating, though. 

Tony didn’t even pretend to consider washing the dishes once they had cleared the table, throwing them in the dishwasher as unceremoniously as possible. He had sent Morgan upstairs to get ready for bed, something she insisted on doing mostly herself these days. Meanwhile, Stephen trailed about the kitchen, putting condiments and jars back where they belonged, wiping the counters as he went. It was only 8:30, but he felt like he could sleep for a year. 

“Hey, that’s enough of that”, Tony said, gently taking the cloth from his hands and chucking it in the sink. “Come sit. Do you want another coffee?”

“Tea might be a better idea if you want to sleep at all tonight.”

“Meh, caffeine doesn’t even affect me anymore. I only drink it for the aesthetic, to be honest.” Stephen just laughed as they got the tea ready and collapsed onto the couch together five minutes later.

“Oh my god, everything hurts”, Tony groaned, laying his head back against the cushions.

“I think my pinky toe is okay”, Stephen smiled tiredly. “Everything else aches.”

“God, I’m out of shape”, Tony grinned, though his face fell a little. 

“Nah, just old”, Stephen said, hiding his teasing grin behind a sip of tea, laughing as Tony pretended to smack his arm. 

“Shut up, you.” 

Silence fell between them, and their smiles fell, and Stephen’s heart dipped into his stomach as memories of the day rushed forward to consume him. The battle, free falling as Levi was ripped to shreds, watching Tony hit the concrete at a hundred miles an hour. He had to swallow back tears, jolted out of his mind only when he felt Tony’s hand on his knee. Silently, he placed his own shaking fingers over Tony’s good hand, feeling it’s warmth, how steady it was, comforting and solid.

_I almost lost you._

“Daddy, can you come read me a bedtime story?”

Both men looked up as Morgan snapped them out of their daze.

“You want me to climb all the way up those huge stairs, Moguna?” Morgan quickly changed tactics, turning to Stephen with pleading eyes.

“Doc?” 

“Of course, darling”, Stephen said, giving Tony a wry grin. 

“Hey, I was kidding”, Tony said, aghast. “What am I, chop liver?” Morgan just giggled as Stephen stood from the sofa, sending Tony a glance to make sure he was actually alright with it.

“You can still go, if you-.”

“I’m kidding, Doc”, Tony winked. “Just don’t be surprised if I’m asleep when you come back down.”

“Duly noted.”

Stephen and Morgan climbed the stairs, though he had to guiltily explain to her that his hands hurt when she asked to hold one of his, so she settled for the sleeve of his hoodie instead. Morgan jumped into her bed once they reached her room, insisting that Stephen get under at least one of the blankets as they sat up against her pillows. Stephen would have never thought in a million years that he would be reading anyone a bedtime story, but to Tony’s daughter? To this little girl who had wormed her way past the cage of his lock and key heart? It felt right. It felt like home. 

“So, what are we reading?” 

“‘_The Ugly Duckling’_”, Morgan stated proudly, grabbing the book from her nightstand and handing it to Stephen. The colourful little book looked too small in his big, scarred hands, but Stephen swallowed his apprehension, asking Morgan if she was cozy before he started reading.

Stephen remembered his mom reading this story to him when he was Morgan’s age, which felt like hundred years ago, if he was honest. He thumbed through the pages as Morgan listened, the low lamp light giving him just enough to read by, ignoring the pain in his hands so he could hold the book up for her, though there was no doubt she’d seen the pictures dozens of times. Morgan snuggled against his side, head leaning on his arm, enthralled by his deep voice softening when he spoke for the mother swan who accepted the ugly duckling at the end of the story. He closed the book softly after a nearly whispered ‘The end’, noticing that her breathing had steadied, cheek smushed against his arm with one of her stuffed animals wrapped in her arms. Stephen’s heart melted a little, easing out of the bed as gently as possible, making sure the mattress didn’t creak. He made sure to replace his presence with a pillow, and Morgan snuggled against it without waking up. Stephen was absolutely drowned in relief and love as he took in the sight of her little face, peaceful and sweet in the low light. Lost in a moment of overwhelming affection, he dipped down and gave her the softest of kisses, lips just barely brushing her cheek. 

Straightening up, Stephen set the book back down on her nightstand (noticing the snow globe he had given her in the place of honour) and turned the lamp off with a quiet click. The door had been left slightly ajar, so he opened it further as he stepped out, turning around to make sure it didn’t click shut too loudly. Turning around, he saw Tony leaning against the wall beside Morgan’s door, evidently having been listening in. He met Stephen with a soft smile and the sorcerer couldn’t help but return it, taking a step towards him.

“Hey, I thought you were-.” Stephen’s words were lost in his throat as Tony met him, placing his good hand on his shoulder gently, looking up at him with a desperate intensity in his eyes.

“Tony?”

Stephen gasped quietly as Tony reached up to meet him in a kiss, pressing against him, hungry and soft all at once. Stephen’s surprise made him hesitate for a few seconds before he absolutely melted, melted into Tony’s touch, against his lips. They were soft, and sure, and warm, like something that would take care of him indefinitely. Every inch on Stephen’s nerves were on fire, hands hovered uncertainly, shaking, before falling on Tony’s shoulders. Tony had turned him so Stephen’s back was pressed against the wall, though he had the room and height to pull back if he wanted to. He didn’t want to. This was everything he had every wanted, everything he’d wanted since seeing 14,000,605 goddamn possibilities on that terrible, alien planet, clinging to each other like they were all they had, because in a way, they were. Stephen felt like he was falling and Tony was catching him, repeatedly. Over and over. Pressing up into his mouth desperately, Tony was showing him that he would always catch him. Tony finally pulled back a little (which was good because Stephen could have stayed like that forever), but only by an inch, so they were sharing breath as he panted slightly. Stephen wished he hadn’t. **_I’d give you the oxygen in my lungs_**, he thought. **_Just kiss me again._**

“You-.” Stephen’s brain wasn’t working, heart fluttering in his chest like a butterfly, while simultaneously more steady than it had ever been. “You kissed me”, he finally managed to mutter numbly. Tony smiled, one of those real smiles where all of his smiles lines crinkled, and they were so close that his smile was against Stephen’s lips.

“It’s been a long time coming, Steph”, Tony whispered, his voice rough and broken like shattered glass. Tears glittered in his good eye, pools of coffee and late winter drawing Stephen in, trapping him in the best way possible. Stephen felt like sobbing himself, chest heaving as he searched Tony’s face, searched for reassurance. **_This was okay, right? I’m not forcing you into anything, right?_** Tony must have seen these questions in his eyes, giving him a patient look, like, _“Oh, Stephen…”_ Exasperated, fond. Loving.

Stephen dipped his head down now. He had his answer. This would always be okay. Tony met him with the same fervour as he did, just feeling his lips, feeling his stubble scratch his own chin. Tony’s good hand was cupping his cheek like he was something precious, drawing him down and into his mouth. He wanted him. Stephen was surprised by how much Tony wanted him. They’d shared their fair share of secret looks, of little touches and smiles, but Stephen’s own self-doubt had never let him be completely sure. Tony didn’t leave any room for doubt now, kissing his lips over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of him. He was soft and sure, pressing Stephen against the wall with his weight, like he was trying to hold him as best he could with the one arm available to him. 

“You’re ridiculous”, Tony rasped as he pulled back slowly, but it sounded like _‘I love you’_. His eyes were heavy as his gaze flickered over Stephen’s face, not searching for anything because everything he wanted was right there. “Are you okay?”

Stephen nodded slowly, his nose grazing Tony’s as they pressed their foreheads together. God, he’d wanted this for so long. He’d known he loved Tony since that day on Titan, but it didn’t hit his chest in full force until just then. Tears fell and Stephen wondered how many goddamn times he was going to cry today. It was too much. He’d almost lost Tony, and now he had him. The two opposite ends of the spectrum, all in less than twelve hours. He fell into Tony’s embrace, and felt Tony’s stubble-prickled wet cheek against his own, breathing him in as he sobbed.

“I’m sorry”, Stephen cried, voice hushed and mumbled in Tony’s shoulder. 

“No”, Tony said. “You’re the last person who needs to be sorry, babe. I’m the bastard who-“, Tony cut himself off with a shuddering breath. “I can’t believe how I’ve treated you.”

“Stop”, Stephen begged, feeling like his heart was breaking in two, wrapping his arms around Tony’s shoulders, gathering him into his chest. “You’re fine, it’s fine. I just want this.”

“You’ve got me”, Tony assured, whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve got me, Steph. You’re everything to me, okay? I hope you know that.” Stephen nodded, burying his face further into Tony’s neck, just breathing in the calming, living scent of him.

“Yes. I’m not going anywhere either”, Stephen promised, his chest aching with all the love it held. Tony was warm and sturdy against him, holding him up, leaning against Stephen too, like he might dissolve if there was any space between them. Their life force was practically thrumming with the closeness, their energy completely entwined as they clung to each other like the two halves of a whole that they were. But then Tony pulled back ever so slightly, trailing a soft thumb over Stephen’s damp cheeks as he looked up at him. 

“What do you say we go to bed? I’m exhausted, so I know you have to be.” Stephen’s heart stuttered, confusion sweeping over his face. Despite the kiss, he hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t thought this far ahead really.

“What?” 

Tony just met his eyes with a patient smile.

“I’m not making you sleep on the sofa after the day we’ve had. Not after…that”, Tony grinned, sleepy and gentle, leaning forward to brush his lips against Stephen’s. “There’s no need for you to.” Stephen could barely stand, hands still on Tony’s shoulders as his mind spun. Months of suppressing everything he felt about Tony caught up with him and dragged at his heels.

“You - well, you have a guest bedroom.” Tony just smiled again, though his apology showed through in his eyes, like he knew how badly he’d been hurting him, even if not on purpose. 

“I don’t want you to sleep in there either.”

“Okay”, Stephen breathed softly, nodding calmly, like everything he’d been wanting hadn’t just come true. Tony went to take his hand, but Stephen winced at the contact, a sharp jab of pain shooting up his fingers and through his hand.

“Sorry”, Tony muttered, taking his wrist gently instead, backing away from him slowly as he began to lead him back down the hall. Stephen’s heart was caught in his throat as he followed Tony, into the only room of the house he’d never been in. The bedroom was dark and Tony let go of Stephen’s wrist for a moment to flick a bedside lamp on. He turned back and looked at Stephen, to where he’d left him stranded just inside the doorway. 

**_This was Pepper’s bedroom, too_**, the hateful side of Stephen’s brain reminded him, freezing him in place. How was this happening? How was this real? His breath caught in his throat, reminding himself of the warmth of Tony’s lips on his, grounding himself back into the present. 

“Come here”, Tony muttered softly, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled the covers on the bed back and sat down on the edge. He watched him like he was a feral cat that might spook, holding him in his gaze encouragingly. Stephen made himself take a steadying breath as he stepped further into the room, walking across the carpet to sit on the bed beside Tony. He let their thighs brush together, told himself it was okay, this was allowed. Tony caught his jaw in one hand gently, lifting Stephen’s eyes so they met his in the half-dark.

“Tell me if this is too much”, Tony rasped, and Stephen realized he sounded scared. He’d been holding back for months, too. He was scared of losing him too, of doing something wrong.

“No. It’s good”, Stephen rumbled, a smile slipping onto his lips because that was the understatement of the year. He inched forward so his shoulder was firmly wedged against Tony’s, meeting his mouth with a soft noise that came from deep in his chest. He pulled back a little, eyes scanning Tony’s face, his too vulnerable, mismatched eyes looking back at him. Then he spotted the cut on Tony’s temple, the one from the battle, and it all came rushing back.

“I almost lost you today”, Stephen finally said out loud, voice wavering because it was all too much. 

“I know.” Tony gave him a sad look, reaching up to brush the hair off of Stephen’s forehead, because he could. “It’s my fault, really. The _one time_ I leave the house without the arc reactor, and-.” He shook his head as Stephen tried to soothe him gently. “That was almost the most scared I’ve been in my life. I - I’ve almost lost people before, my friends. I did lose Peter.” The tears were making their way in tracks down Tony’s face and Stephen brushed them away gently. “But…watching you fall like that…I felt like I was dying. Like a piece of me was dying, Stephen.” Stephen leaned forward, pressed a kiss to his forehead, Tony’s brow furrowed with grief under his lips. Tony suddenly pulled back a little, their eyes meeting in understanding as he backed up onto the bed further and Stephen followed him.

They ended up in the middle of the bed, Tony laying on his back, holding his arm out for Stephen to follow. And Stephen did, falling in against his side as he lied beside him, falling into the warmth of Tony’s arm wrapping around him. Stephen felt his heart stutter as he let himself reach out and wrap an arm around Tony’s chest, propping himself up on one elbow as he leaned forward to kiss his tear-wet cheeks. Stephen’s heart ached for him, ached for all their loss and hurt shared between them, even before they had known each other. He ached for all the grief Tony had ever felt, for every second of his life he’d had to spend apart from this great man, for everything that had been left unsaid between them. He fell softly against his lips again, holding back his own sob, feeling like he could swallow him whole just to keep him safe. He tightened his grip around Tony’s chest, not that there was much strength in his hands, but he just wanted to hold him. He wanted to feel his warmth, his solid presence against his body, against his chest for as long as he could. He wanted to hold all of him, to make sure he knew he was safe. 

Tony reached up to run his good hand through the sorcerer’s hair, choking on a sob as Stephen pulled back.

“I’m a mess”, Tony muttered, voice wet and rough. Stephen just smiled tearfully in the low light, tears running down his cheeks as he met Tony’s eyes openly, honestly.

“That’s okay”, he sniffed. “So am I.” Unable to hold his disjointed composure any longer, Stephen let himself drop onto Tony’s chest, burying his face in the man’s good shoulder. His body shook with silent sobs, breath eventually evening out as Tony held him as close as possible with his one arm, the cybernetic one still strapped to his chest. He felt him pressing kisses into his hair, felt his warm breath, felt his breathing, and his heartbeat. What a beautiful sound that was, Stephen thought, turning his head so his cheek was lying on Tony’s chest, his heart thud-thudding comfortingly in his ear. Everything in him slackened, every aching muscle, every burning cut, every tremor of his hands relaxed as they held each other about as tight as they could. Because, this way, maybe they could fuse their life force back into one, from two halves and back into the one whole they were meant to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it’s completely fine that I made Tony have to watch Stephen fall from a great height, just like he did with Rhodey.
> 
> Notice how Tony is totally fine with Stephen handing him the nano arc reactor (his heart).
> 
> Pepper: You shouldn’t be looking after Morgan or driving right now.  
Tony: *high on painkillers with a wrecked arm and an exhausted sorcerer* What could possibly go wrong?
> 
> Also, we know Tony has old man cardigans. He just wanted to see Stephen in one of his MIT hoodies…<3
> 
> I also had a second-hand anxiety attack from the suspense of writing the last scene, so I hope ya'll appreciate it.


	16. You Were Made For Me By The Stars Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of near disaster, Stephen and Tony get a well-deserved break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s your fluff chapter, kids. Leave a comment and give me the happy chemical, please. Happy chemical = more writing. Also, my boys are soft as fuck, please enjoy. (I'm sorry this is a week late. This whole covid-19 thing shut my uni down, so I've been busy navigating that...)
> 
> Ya’ll: I can’t wait to see what happens next chapter!  
Me: *struggling to outline the next chapter* Bitch me too. The fuck *sips drink*
> 
> Tony is number one (1) dramatic dad. Also, Italian Tony gives me life, that is all.
> 
> Stephen during this entire chapter is the physical embodiment of Ben Platt’s ‘Share Your Address’
> 
> I recommend playing the songs while you’re reading the living room scene, it makes it even sweeter imo. Also notice how "Rock Me Gently" was one of the songs Tony tested Stephen's music knowledge with in chapter 12 (the Christmas chapter).
> 
> Rhodey, in chapter 14: tell Stephen you like him as more than a friend  
Tony, in this chapter: you want me to awkwardly dad dance at him??  
Rhodey: no, that’s not what I mea-  
Tony: you want me to dance like a dumb, exotic bird trying to court a mate??  
Rhodey: that’s not what I said at all, please stop  
Tony: oH, you meant feed him cheesborger?? cook for him??  
Rhodey: that-that’s a little better, I guess. okay

Sunlight filtered through the windows of the cabin, sparkling on the new dusting of snow, like something out of a romance novel, the heroine’s hair strewn across her pillow as she woke delicately blinking into the golden light.

Instead, Stephen’s face, battered and bruised from yesterday, was shoved into a pillow that smelled vaguely like coffee and cologne. He groaned slightly with the ache of his sore muscles,trying to blink the sleep from his eyes as he lifted his head, looking around the room while his sleep-addled brain tried to figure out where he was. 

It all came rushing back in flashes of pleasure and anticipation. Tony choosing him over Pepper, Tony inviting him into his home, Tony kissing him. Stephen looked over to the right side of the bed, his chest swelling with affection until he thought it might burst as he took in the sight of Tony with his face similarly wedged in his pillow. The weight of his presence, steady and solid, was so foreign yet familiar to Stephen as he hadn’t shared a bed with anyone in many years. The mere act of sharing the same sleeping space as someone else was bound to breed all sorts of familiarity. There was something beautiful, really, about the intense vulnerability and intimacy of allowing yourself to slip into unconsciousness, trusting someone else to the point of knowing that you would be safe if they kept watch over you.

Stephen sighed as he relaxed into the dip of the mattress, laying his head back down on his arm as he watched Tony breathing softly. Just as unfamiliar as sharing a bed with someone, was the sensation of actually sleeping in this plane of existence. It was the first night Stephen had slept soundly in his own body since the accident. It was the first night he had slept like a normal human, at least since he had first learned the disconnected bliss of shifting into his astral form, leaving the aches and nightmares of his physical self behind.

Stephen pushed such uncomfortable thoughts out of his mind, instead focusing on how the sunlight streaming through the window played with the silver in Tony’s hair, adding a golden warmth to his features, beautiful and peaceful as he slept. His breath rose and fell rhythmically and Stephen just watched him breathe for several minutes, revelling in the sound of his soft snores. His eyes trailed upwards, appreciating every inch of this amazing man, seemingly at piece for once, dark lashes brushing his cheeks like some sort of angel. The familiar surge of protectiveness wound its way around Stephen’s chest, his life force thrumming with contentment as he let himself relax. This was safe. They were safe.

His heart fluttered a little as Tony opened his eyes groggily, apparently without the shock of confusion from the unfamiliar situation as Stephen had. Instead, he smiled at the sorcerer sleepily, pushing his pillow down so he could see Stephen properly. He then pillowed his good hand under his own cheek as he met the silver sea glass eyes watching him. 

“Morning, you”, Tony mumbled, his voice rough with sleep and Stephen felt like his heart might split in two with love. Shock was still coursing through his body, aftershocks from yesterday, half convinced that this was some sort of sickly beautiful fever dream. 

“Morning”, he tried in a whisper, relieved that his voice worked. A quietly content smile spilled over his face, adjusting his pillow so he could move closer to Tony, who was practically purring in contentment.

“Mmhhmm. You sleep okay?” 

“Like a log”, Stephen admitted. The last thing he remembered from last night was falling into Tony’s embrace, hiding from the world with relief. He couldn’t remember waking up in the night once, something which had been unheard of in the past as his nightmares and memories left his sleep ragged. 

“I don’t think I’ve slept that well in years”, Tony rasped with a small grin, echoing Stephen’s thoughts as if he could read his mind. He paused, thoughtful, as his eyes flickered over Stephen’s face. “Hey, remember when we went to Wakanda for my arm surgery?” Stephen nodded with a smile, mildly amused at the sudden change in topic. But this was still Tony. The fact that they had kissed, or that they had shared a bed last night, wouldn’t stop his mind from pin balling around at a million miles an hour. But Stephen was used to it. 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, so, and you remember that morning how you had mentioned you could kinda…feel when I woke up?” Tony inched his pillow closer so they were almost nose-to-nose, so that Stephen could feel the warm, gentle puffs of his breaths. 

“Yes.” Stephen’s mind couldn’t even comprehend the relaxed contentment overtaking his body. 

“I think…I think I felt that”, Tony told him, his eyes wide with wonder, only a few inches from Stephen’s. “I’m not sure, but I think…yeah, I could just _feel_ when you woke up.” He smiled, eyes softening a little as Stephen was lost in their blue and brown depths. “It felt different, but…good.”

“Yeah?”, Stephen asked, breath hushed. So much of their life force connection had been perceived as ‘weird’, especially by Pepper, that it was a relief to hear Tony accept this discovery positively. 

“Yeah”, Tony confirmed. “Do you think it’s ‘cause the bond is…strengthening, or something?”

“Maybe. It’s more likely that your piece of the life force is becoming more _yours_ as it connects to your body over time. You’re becoming more in tune with it. Kind of like an organ transplant being accepted, I guess?” Tony smirked.

“You’re the doctor, Doc. Save the medical analogies for yourself.” Tony paused in thought, though the teasing smile remained on his face until he spoke. “That could get a little difficult, though. If we’re only able to sleep at the same time, or how would that work?” 

“Well, you remember that same day, right before your surgery?”, Stephen asked, an amused smile flickering over his face at Tony’s question. “You had that anxiety attack and I could feel it, but only when I let down these sort of…walls that I usually have up between our two halves.”

“So you could teach me how to put the walls up?”, Tony asked, quickly catching on, interest piqued.

“Yes. It’ll take more time for you to learn since it wasn’t your life force to begin with, but it’s possible for you to control it like I have. It’s convenient so I don’t have to feel _everything_ you feel.” Stephen felt a stab of guilt as quiet horror passed over Tony’s face.

“You can feel what I do? When you…take the walls down?”

“Just physical sensations”, Stephen choked out, immediately realizing what Tony was asking. He was obviously worried that Stephen had been able to feel his own suppressed affection for the sorcerer, and Stephen was extremely grateful in that moment that that wasn’t the case. That would have been a living hell, though he wasn’t quite sure that reality had been all that much better. Almost a year of second-guessing his every move around Tony, wondering if he even valued the sorcerer’s friendship, had been a particularly hellish experience in its self. “Severely increased heart rate, aches and pains like your chest or your arm”, Stephen continued to explain, voice still hushed. “It’s not the same magnitude, of course. More…diluted.”

“Okay”, Tony breathed, seemingly quietly relieved. Stephen’s heart jolted when Tony met his eyes again, his expression heart-breaking. “I’m…sorry it took so long, Steph.”

“I don’t blame you…”, Stephen assured, giving him a soft smile. There was so much they needed to talk about but, for right now, just this was okay. 

“Of course you don’t”, Tony laughed, hushed and a little bitter. “I shouldn’t have ever given you any reason to doubt what you are to me. But you…forgive me?” Stephen couldn’t help but chuckle at his worried expression.

“I’m in your bed, aren’t I?” This prompted a smile from Tony as the worry left his eyes, reaching out with his good hand to brush the hair off Stephen’s forehead.

“Honey, you were so tired last night, I could have put you to bed in the stable with Gerald and you wouldn’t have known the difference.” 

“Good thing I slept so well, then”, Stephen grinned, leaning forward slightly even as his heart was about to beat out of his chest. 

The tips of their noses were a mere three inches apart, looking into each other’s eyes like they were admiring each other’s soul, and Stephen chanced a gentle hand on Tony’s cheek. Something in Tony seemed to break at the contact as trembling fingers rested on the scarred right side of his face, drawing a shaky breath as he met Stephen’s lips with his. There was no rush now, no tears or fresh, burning pain thrumming through both their chests. It was like their first kiss last night, but warmer, softer, without all the raw intensity trying to fill the desperation of finally touching each other. Stephen hummed as Tony pressed into his mouth, traces of his hunger flickering like the beginnings of a flame as he bit the sorcerer’s bottom lip gently. Stephen gently caressed Tony’s cheek, the other man’s damaged skin rough under his own scars, his hand sliding around to cup the back of Tony’s head as he met the warm, electric sensation of his touch. They felt each other’s mouths, slowly and patiently and un-rushed, like time was finally on their side, drawing breath from each other in a desperate attempt to hold on for as long as possible. They were both huffing a little once Stephen pulled back, his hand drifting back to Tony’s cheek almost automatically, like their pain belonged together just as much as their joy did. 

“You’re beautiful”, Stephen rumbled, breathless. He was surprised at himself for saying it aloud, but he meant it. He’d been thinking it almost every day for ten months, after all. The uncomfortable denial that found its way onto Tony’s face hurt more than he could have ever imagined, but he was beyond grateful when Tony didn’t pull away from his touch. 

“You’re ridiculous”, Tony said in the same way that he had last night, and Stephen realized that the other man had been lovingly insulting him since the beginning. _You ridiculous wizard._ Stephen had heard those words more times than he could count, a confession of love under the guise of an affectionate insult. 

“So are you”, Stephen said, and kissed his forehead, lips brushing the scarred skin. **_I love your scars. Or I don’t care about them. Which ever you want, I just know I love you._**

A quiet bang from downstairs drew Stephen from his thoughts as he looked up, alarm flickering through his chest.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”, Tony asked, his brow furrowed in slight confusion. 

“I thought I heard something downstairs.”

“Probably snow sliding off the roof. It does that on the front porch once the sun comes up”, Tony told him distractedly, meeting Stephen’s lips again and the sorcerer quickly forgot about the sound he had heard. His cheeks flushed as the almost desperate touch of their mouths elicited a soft moan from Tony’s throat, the other man pulling his head back quickly with a flustered smile.

“Sorry”, Tony muttered, looking embarrassed and…ashamed? Stephen frowned a little, tilting his head in utter bewilderment.

“Nothing to be sorry for, I-.”

“Hey, Da- Oh, my god! I’m so sorry!”

Both men jumped as the bedroom door was thrown open and, automatically expecting Morgan, Stephen jumped away from Tony as quickly as possible. Instead, he watching as Peter covered his eyes and blindly floundered his way back out of the room, frantic feet pounding back down the stairs. Tony and Stephen looked at each other, the sorcerer’s heart pounding a little, watching as a smirk tugged at the corner of Tony’s mouth.

“Well, I guess Peter knows about us now.” Stephen snorted at his nonchalant tone.

“For the love of the Vishanti… I guess we should go talk to him.”

“That’s what responsible parents would do”, Tony said with a wink, climbing out of bed before Stephen could do anything more than gape in flustered embarrassment. “Here, put this on”, Tony said, chucking a navy blue house coat at him from across the room. “It’s warmer than that old sweatshirt I gave you yesterday.”

“Thanks”, Stephen muttered, pulling the house coat on, surprised to see that the sleeves were long enough for him. “This is massive”, he commented idly, holding his arms out for Tony to see. “There’s no way this fits you”, he said as Tony shrugged and pulled on an MIT sweater that only looked slightly newer and less worn than the one Stephen had on last night. No, maybe it was the same one. 

“I like my comfortable clothes to be big. C’mon, let’s go check on the traumatized spiderling.”

They made their way down the stairs side-by-side, Tony catching Stephen’s wrist to steady him when he stumbled, his legs still aching terribly from the battle yesterday. Everything in Stephen’s body hurt, really, except for his chest which was just flooded with warmth from Tony’s presence. He could tell Tony was stiff too but, never one to complain, Tony just adjusted the sling his cybernetic arm was in and they made their way down the stairs more carefully than usual. 

Upon reaching the kitchen, they were met with the sight of Peter pacing in circles around the kitchen table as he typed on his phone furiously, not even noticing their presence until Tony’s voice made him look up.

“Alerting the media already, are you?”, Tony asked with a jaunty grin, leaning against the wall casually. Peter dropped his phone, and then caught it in mid air as he looked between them in alarm.

“What? No!”

“Then what were you just doing on your phone?”, Tony asked challengingly, crossing his arms skeptically as Stephen stood to the side, toying with the string of his house coat, waiting until he was pulled into the current father-son conversation. Peter seemed to know that he was defeated, grimacing as he refused to meet Tony’s eyes.

“Okay, I told Ned”, he admitted. “But only because we had a bet placed on it.” Stephen quirked a brow, not sure how Peter saw that as much of a defence. Tony seemed to agree with him, pushing off the wall as he stared the teen down, brows raised in shock.

“You what?!”

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Peter pointed an accusing finger between them both. “How was I supposed to know you guys were-?”

“What are you even doing here so early, Pete?”

“It is not early. It is almost ten in the morning!”, Peter said, indignant. “And I was supposed to stay over this weekend, remember?” At Tony’s guilty silence, the teen raised his eyebrows in horror. “You forgot?!” Tony shifted uncomfortably with the weight of the accusation.

“Well, no. I didn’t really forget, there was just a lot happening yesterday, Pete.” Peter looked amused by that.

“Well, yeah. I can see that”, he scoffed.

“Calm down”, Tony chided gently. “We were fully clothed. It could have been a lot worse.” Stephen tried his best to suppress the intense blush that rose to his cheeks, but to no avail.

“Yeah, about that”, Peter frowned. “Since when have you guys been…canoodling?” Tony gaped, holding his hands up almost defensively while Stephen squirmed uncomfortably. _Did the kid seriously just say ‘canoodling’?_

“Woah, woah, woah!”, Tony said, affronted. “Watch it there, young buck. There has been no _canoodling_, not that that’s any of your business.”

“That’s the exact same thing May said when I walked in on her and Happy”, Peter said, making Tony raise a concerned brow.

“Holy shit, kid, you really need to learn how to knock.”

“No, they weren’t canoodling or anything”, Peter said, looking disgusted.

“Can we please stop saying canoodling?”, Stephen pleaded. The whole situation was uncomfortable, he didn't need that word thrown in to the mix too.

“They were just having coffee in bed”, Peter explained, throwing the sorcerer his own uncomfortable look. “But I didn’t even know they were together at that point, so it was almost worse…in a way. I just - I don’t know. I guess you’re right, it’s not any of my business…”, the teen said, looking away dejectedly and Stephen’s chest squirmed with sympathy. Poor kid was just used to having May and then Tony. Now there were all these other people attaching themselves to his parent figures and it couldn’t have been easy. 

“No”, Tony said decisively, gaining Peter’s attention. “It affects you, of course it’s your business.” Tony’s face softened as he met Peter’s eyes. “I swear, I would have told you, Pete. But this all happened last night, so I didn’t have much of a chance, okay?” The teen nodded seemingly satisfied with the explanation, but looked to Stephen for confirmation as well.

“Sorcerer’s honour”, Stephen promised, lifting one hand in the air while resting the other on his chest. Tony scoffed at him affectionately.

“What does that even mean?”, he chuckled. Stephen shrugged.

“I don’t know. I thought it might count for something”, he said, giving Peter a quick wink while the teen smiled back at him.

“It’s good enough for me”, Peter confirmed, before turning to Tony again with a challenge in his eyes. “So, were you also gonna tell me about how you guys were fighting some giant space snake without me yesterday? Or is that a secret too?”

“No”, Tony growled, cuffing the side of the teen’s head gently. “Because you were in class exactly where you should have been. Safe.”

“Not to mention you would have missed organic chemistry if you had been there”, Stephen pointed out, and Peter gave him a look like he had just been betrayed. 

“Well - you guys weren’t safe!”, Peter pointed out in dismay as frustration built in his voice, gesturing to the cuts on their faces. “For heck’s sake, Dad, look at your arm! You were doing so well with it and now…” Tears had gathered in the teen’s eyes and Stephen just wanted to wrap him up in his arms, as he was sure Tony did as well if the look on his face was anything to go by. “Maybe if I was there, that wouldn’t have happened, you know? I just - I wish you had called me.”

“Hey, hey, c’mon, Pete, look at me”, Tony soothed, stepping forward to cup Peter’s cheek with his good hand, thumbing away his tears gently. “I know you could have helped, but I would have been a wreck if you were there too. I was stressed enough trying to keep his ass alive out there”, he said, jerking a thumb back towards Stephen. “I like it much better when you’re safe, bambino.” Peter shook his head, sniffing quietly.

“But you guys-.”

“We were fine”, Tony insisted, gripping his shoulder gently. They had been a lot less than fine until Wong got there, Stephen thought to himself, but of course he wasn’t about to let Peter know that. “We kept each other alive and no civilians died, so it was a pretty successful day in all.” The teen gave a hiccupy laugh as he wiped his cheeks on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“You guys are crazy”, Peter smiled quietly. “I still wish you had called me.” He looked to Stephen with a grin and the sorcerer’s heart jumped a little. “You did look pretty cool in the suit, though. I saw you on the news, flying around like a maniac.”

“Uh, thanks”, Stephen chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. 

“Hey, what about me?”, Tony piped in, gives Peter a one-armed noogie. “I’ve worn that suit a million times and not once have you said I look cool. Is that favouritism I smell, Parker?” Peter laughed as he squirmed out of Tony’s grip, hair ruffled as he looked at his dad with an impish light in his eyes. 

“That’s the point. You _made_ the suits, you know how they work. Big deal if you know how to use them”, Peter teased, shoving Tony’s shoulder playfully. “Doc, on the other hand, has never been in one, making it much more impressive that he saved your ass in one.”

“He has a point”, Stephen grinned, chest warming at the faux offended look Tony shot him.

“My own family”, Tony gaped. “Turning against me like this, I can’t believe it. I’m sensing a mutiny!” Urged on by Tony’s dramatics, Peter lit up with a grin.

“I mean, it’s a good thing Doc was there to use the suit, you haven't been in it for so long”, Peter teased gently. “You’re lucky the nanobots can make the armour bigger, otherwise you wouldn’t have even been able to f-.” Peter was cut off as Tony caught him in a headlock, his voice becoming muffled in the man’s sweatshirt. Stephen could only laugh with Tony as he watched them, the sorcerer’s chest vibrant with warmth and love. 

“Ooh, dishing out the shots, eh?”, Tony growled, tickling Peter as well as he could while holding him with one arm, which wasn’t very well. “Poking fun at your old man?” Peter just squirmed in a heap of giggles, not trying very hard to get away so he didn’t hurt his dad. Tony finally relented, pulling the teen against his chest in a sort of one-armed hug and Peter automatically relaxed against him, wrapping both of his arms around Tony tightly.

“I’m really glad you’re okay”, Peter muttered in Tony’s shoulder. “Both of you.” Stephen met the teen’s eyes with a grateful, gentle smile, suppressing the urge to wrap them both up in his arms and protect them forever. In countless millions of other realities, they had been his everything, and he was beginning to think that this reality may be one of them as well. 

“Me too”, Tony muttered into Peter’s hair, sending Stephen a look that melted the sorcerer’s heart. “Does that mean you’re…fine with me and Doc being - I don’t know…whatever the heck we are?” Stephen was relieved to see Peter smile as he pulled back a bit from Tony’s embrace and looked between them. 

“Honestly?”, Peter said, raising a brow. “I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. You guys are sooo obvious.”

“Come here, you”, Tony growled with a warm smile, wrestling Peter back into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “Smart ass.” He chuckled as he placed one more kiss on Peter’s forehead and then let him go. “Alright, I think it’s about time I get some pancakes going before Mongoose wakes up screeching for food.”

“Sounds like someone else I know”, Stephen commented innocently, earning a gasp from Tony as Peter lit up.

“Hey, you called her Mongoose!”, Peter said, absolutely delighted. “My influence is rubbing off on you.”

“I slipped up”, Tony laughed as he walked to the stove and started gathering ingredients for pancakes. “That’s not gonna happen again, Underoos.”

“I’ll give you a hand”, Stephen called to Tony, grateful to have a purpose other than standing around awkwardly, though it was only awkward because of the situation, not the people.

“Doc?”, Peter said suddenly, making Stephen stop in his tracks as he turned back to face him. 

“Yes?” He met Peter’s eyes and saw the uncertainty there as the teen played with his hoodie strings awkwardly.

“I just wanted to, um-. Just…thank you for keeping him safe.” Peter swallowed as he looked down at his feet. They both knew what Peter actually meant. _Thank you for keeping him alive._ But neither of them were going to point that out.

“Of course”, Stephen rumbled gently, because he didn’t know what else to say. For him, it was as simple as breathing. He would protect Tony and Peter to his dying breath, but Peter didn’t know that. The millions of times he had heard Peter call him ‘Dad’ in his own mind hit Stephen’s chest all at once at full force, and he cautiously held his arms out, his expression open and honest. He didn’t know if Peter would be comfortable with a hug, but he’d offer one, if only to quell the frantic, loving beating of his own heart. To his immense relief, Peter stepped forward with a shy smile and let the sorcerer wrap him up in his arms gently. The teen held him back with muscular arms wrapped around Stephen’s middle. Stephen always forgot how strong he was. It was hard to forget about the realities where he’d known him as a toddler, his little boy, as sweet and caring as ever. 

“And you don’t have to thank me”, Stephen said gently. “I’d like to think he’s as much my idiot as he is yours.” He was relieved again when Peter looked up at him with a grin as he stepped back.

“Yeah. I think you’re right”, the teen laughed quietly, so Tony couldn’t hear them from where he was banging around in the kitchen.

“Let’s go help your dad, shall we?”, Stephen suggested, balking at the minor slip up, but Peter didn’t seem to notice. “Before he tears the entire kitchen apart, at least.”

Tony was trying to reach a bowl on top of the fridge when they walked back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Merlin, can you grab the pancake bowl for me?” Stephen chuckled as he walked over and reached for the bowl.

“Oh, I’m still Merlin, am I?” 

“You’ll always be Merlin”, Tony said, giving him a saucy wink. Stephen smiled back, not paying attention as the ceramic bowl slipped from his weak hands. There was a quick thwipping noise as Peter shot webbing from his wrists in less time than it took to blink, catching the bowl before it hit the floor.

“Hey, no web shooters in the kitchen”, Tony warned, grabbing a spray bottle of web-dissolving solvent from the cupboard. Stephen ignored the embarrassed flush in his cheeks, muttering his apology, but no one heard it. _His goddamn hands_. Instead of berating himself, he busied himself by gathering pancake ingredients from the fridge. 

“But I caught the bowl”, Peter pointed out. Tony relented with a nod as he sprayed the bowl and extracted it from the webbing. 

“Fair enough. Thanks for that, but as soon as one person brings their toys into the kitchen, then everyone else follows suit. There’d be web shooters, Morgan’s plushies, repulsor gloves, and cloaks”, he added, giving Stephen a secret grin. “No one would be able to find anything and we’d end up with food where it shouldn’t be.” 

“That reminds me”, Stephen said casually, measuring flour into the mixing bowl. “I’m gonna have to put Levi back together after breakfast.”

“What happened? Are they okay?”, Peter asked, head snapping up in concern. God, the kid had gotten far too used to assuming every little thing might be the end of the world. 

“Let’s just say they fared a little worse than Tony and I did in the fight”, Stephen grimaced, but quickly made his expression neutral as Peter’s frowned. “Nothing a few quick spells won’t fix.”

“Speaking of getting things fixed, when are you getting something done with your arm?”, Peter asked, taking over as Tony struggled to stir the batter with one arm. There was too much flinty worry behind his eyes for any eighteen-year-old to have, though his expression relaxed a little when Tony gave him a playful swat for worrying.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call Dr. Baradii today. They’ll probably be able to get me in Monday or Tuesday. One of the perks of being the universe’s saviour”, Tony joked lightly, trying to pull a smile out of the worried teen. It worked, though only as a brief flicker across Peter’s face. 

“Okay. As long as you can get it fixed soon.”

“Doc?”

Stephen spun around as the tiny, inquisitive voice addressed him almost accusingly. He turned around to see Morgan, bedraggled and bright-eyed, looking up at him like she had just spotted Santa Claus kneeling beside the tree. 

“You’re still here!”, Morgan squeaked with joy, and Stephen’s heart broke a little. He was devastated to realize that his default state around her was ‘leaving’, ‘about to leave’, or ‘left sometime last night’. Now that norm had changed and she was overjoyed simply by his presence. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms and her Spider Man plush around his legs, transporting Stephen back to the first time she had done that with him. 

April 26th, 2023. 

Tony had just been admitted into the Wakanda hospital after his Snap and Stephen splitting his life force to give to him. 

Stephen tried not to think about it too much, instead dropping to his knees so he could give Morgan a proper good morning hug. There had been countless nights where that day had plagued his mind, there was no need to dwell on it on one of the happiest days of his life. What mattered was here and now. Not the past or the future or any of the possible futures that could have been. What mattered was the little girl in his arms, tiny and sweet, the incredible man who was no doubt watching them right now with his love in his eyes, and the astoundingly good, but traumatized teen who would need all the support he could get. 

“You ready for some pancakes, Miss Morgan?”, Stephen asked with a grin, shaking fingers gently brushing her hair out of her face. 

“Yeah! Pancakes! With bwuebewwies?”, she asked, running over to the stove where Tony and Peter were manning the cast iron griddle. 

“Good morning to you, too, cupcake”, Tony teased her, meeting Stephen’s eyes with a glittering grin. “Yeah, we can do blueberries if you want.” Morgan was quickly distracted from thoughts of food, though, as she caught sight of one of her other favourite things.

“Petey!”

“Hey, Mo!” Peter stooped to scoop the little girl up in his arms, kissing her cheek as she giggled. “You been keeping Dad and the Doc in check?”

“They got hurt”, Morgan frowned, pointing an accusing finger between Stephen and her dad.

“I know”, Peter said with an equally serious frown. “They’re in a lot of trouble, aren’t they? Do you think we should withhold kisses and hugs?” Tony gasped with an appropriate amount of drama. “Is that a suitable punishment for their crimes?” Morgan seemed to consider this as Tony innocently flipped pancakes and Stephen pretended to look worried as he poured orange juice for the kids. Morgan finally nodded.

“No kisses or hugs until lunchtime”, she declared, earning an appalled gasp from Tony.

“Jeez, Moguna. You know how to hit your old man where it hurts”, he said, hand to his chest dramatically before flipping another pancake…which ended up promptly on the floor.

“How about I take over pancake flipping?”, Peter offered, setting Morgan down and gently wrestling the spatula from Tony. “We’d like to eat at least a few that aren’t covered in dust, if you don’t mind, Dad.” 

Stephen didn’t even hear Tony’s snarky response as his chest did something weird. He’d apparently missed the transition between ‘Mr. Stark’ and ‘Dad’, a bridge between one of the very few gaps in Tony and Peter’s relationship. It was obviously a recent development, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, like Stephen had been absent from the vital moments, even if it wasn’t his fault. He tried desperately to brush past it. 

**_Stay in the present,_** he reminded himself. **_Because the present is pretty damn good right now._**

It was easy to fall into playful banter as the three of them prepared breakfast and set the table, Morgan watching from her chair as she eagerly waited for pancakes. Tony turned on the coffee maker, impeding Stephen’s attempts to make tea as he purposefully got in the way so the sorcerer had to side-step around him, close and tantalizing. But Morgan was there, they hadn’t decided when to tell her, and Stephen was pretty sure Peter wouldn’t appreciate them kissing in the kitchen. It was fine, Stephen could wait. He’d been waiting for ten months already, he could wait half an hour until breakfast was over. But, God, Tony did like to tease, apparently, bumping Stephen with his hip as he walked by to grab milk from the fridge, subtly enough that neither of the kids noticed. Stephen could only smile to himself as he spooned honey into his mug, life force thrumming and overflowing with contentment.

Peter finished flipping the last batch of pancakes, pulling the large plate-full out of the oven where they had been keeping warm. Stephen teased him a little about how much milk and sugar he put in his coffee, the teen giving him a cheeky grin and saying that sugary coffee was the only thing getting him through his senior year of high school. Their conversation about the hardships of studying for finals carried over to the kitchen table, sitting down beside each other on the bench as Tony helped Morgan dish up the pancakes.

“Maple syrup, Doc?”, Tony asked innocently, before passing the bottle over at Stephen’s nod, though the look in his eyes suggested he’d like to be pouring the syrup over something other than pancakes. 

The sorcerer revelled in the ability to meet his gaze openly with a challenging smirk, letting their fingers brush together on purpose. Every nerve ending in Stephen’s body was electrified as he was overcome with the painfully concrete realization that this was real, a feeling that made his fingers ache all the way to their tips. They could be open about their feelings for each other, now that they knew those feelings were reciprocated, raw and alive with the validation of their mutual affection. Stephen could have sobbed in relief all over again, but he was too content to even remember what such lonely desperation had felt like. Not for right now, at least. Not as he brushed elbows with Peter as they commiserated in the difficulty of organic chemistry. Not as Morgan gave him syrup-sweet smiles from across the table, asking him if he liked the pancakes, making sure that he wasn’t leaving immediately after breakfast. Not as he shared quiet looks with Tony which held months worth of suppressed fondness, still soft and aching as they eased out of their distant longing.

This was good. This was where he was meant to be. 

It was a quiet moment after the breakfast table had been cleared, dishes thrown in the dishwasher again, that Stephen was able to claim the kiss Tony had been teasing him with. Peter had gone upstairs to take a shower, while Morgan was cleaning syrup off her face in the downstairs bathroom. Tony had offered his help, of course, but the little girl had refused, insisting that she was plenty old enough to wash her face on her own. 

“She’s so stubborn”, Tony muttered affectionately as he watched her skip off down the hall.

“I wonder where she gets that from”, Stephen said, smiling at the cocky grin this earned him. Tony growled, slipping his arm around the sorcerer’s waist as he turned to face him, chests pressed together as he looked up at the taller man.

“You insinuating something, Steph?” Stephen didn’t have the chance to answer as his words were lost in Tony’s mouth, revelling in the way he still tasted like maple syrup and coffee. Stephen had to suppress a quiet moan as Tony pressed him against the counter softly, canting his hips into him as he kissed the sorcerer’s mouth like he was starving. Tony pressed soft kisses on his lips, trailing to the corner of his mouth, onto his goatee, and across his jaw. He pulled back before he reached his neck, and Stephen was embarrassed to just barely swallow a disappointed whine. He realized it was good timing, though, as Morgan walked into the kitchen just as Tony was stepping back from him. 

“Daddy, can we go sledding?”, Morgan asked, walking over and tugging on the edge of her dad’s sweatshirt. Tony gave Stephen an affectionate wink, cheeks flushed slightly, before answering his daughter.

“Let’s let these pancakes settle a bit first, Moguna. I’d prefer not to lose my breakfast, especially if we start racing.” Morgan nodded in understanding before turning to the sorcerer.

“Can Doc come?” Stephen’s heart broke all over again at the quietly skeptical hope in her eyes, like she didn’t expect him to say yes. He was always leaving as soon as he got there, subtly chased off by Pepper, why would now be any different for her? He was about to respond, but Tony beat him to it, kneeling down to his daughter’s level.

“Of course Doc can come”, Tony said gently, brushing her unruly hair out of her eyes. “In fact, Doc’s gonna be able to spend a lot more time with us now. He’s gonna have sleepovers all the time, and have breakfast with us, and do fun things like sledding. What do you think about that?” Stephen could feel his heart beating in his throat, and could feel Tony’s nervousness as well, as he came as close to telling Morgan about their relationship as he could, without actually telling her. 

“That sounds good”, Morgan said with an uncharacteristically shy smile, glancing up at Stephen like she’d just been told a big secret. **_Shit. Had she seen them kissing after all?_**

Stephen didn’t have the time to dwell on it, though, as Peter came bounding down the stairs, damp curls bouncing, and backed up Morgan’s request to go sledding, newly-eaten pancakes be damned. It took a lot of cajoling and puppy dog eyes on both Peter’s and Morgan’s parts, but they finally convinced the two men to get bundled up and trail them to the tobogganing hill. In retrospect, it was a nice idea, Stephen wrapped in one of Tony’s larger coats (as his was buried under the rubble of that street in the Village), walking hand in hand when Peter scampered ahead, pulling Morgan on one of the sleds. 

“I hope it’s okay…what I told Morgan, I mean”, Tony said suddenly, eyes wide with uncertainty. Stephen looked ahead of them, making sure even Peter was out of earshot, before speaking. 

“Of course it was fine. It’s uh - well, it’s the truth, I hope”, Stephen grinned softly. “Besides, I’d like to think she’ll find out sooner than later.” Was it too bold to make assumptions about the future like that? Tony glanced up at the sorcerer, and the look in his good eye was indescribable, fluffy snowflakes landing on his lashes as he cocked his head sideways slightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, Stephen”, he whispered, barely audible past the muted crunching of their boots in the deep snow. 

“I - of course. I mean, I didn’t think…okay”, Stephen relented, embarrassed that Tony had read him so easily. 

“I know I haven’t exactly had the best track record for being there when you need it, but I’m planning on changing that”, Tony continued, watching the kids running and laughing, because that was easier than holding eye contact. “I’ve been blind to what’s in front of me, caught up in what I thought was right…” Tony paused and Stephen swallowed harshly. This was a lot. 

“I know this is all happening a little suddenly, but…” Again Tony looked up to meet his face and the sorcerer felt his heart jump as he lost himself in eyes of coffee and late winter, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. “I know that this is what I’ve been wanting for a while now, so…I think it will be alright. More than alright.” 

Silence fell between them as they walked, holding on to each other’s hands as tightly as possible without hurting Stephen’s hand. 

“How long?”, Stephen asked, barely able to get the question out, deep voice cracking like dry timber in a roaring fire. 

“What?”

“How long have you…? You know.” 

“How long have I known how I feel about you?”, Tony asked bluntly, amusement seeping into his tone as Stephen found he couldn’t meet his eyes. It had been a question of his own devising, but to hear Tony say it out loud was enough to set his skin to prickling and burning with nerves, desire, fear, joy, embarrassment, any emotion he could think off.

“Yes”, Stephen rasped in confirmation, though Tony’s grin said he was teasing. 

“Uh, probably since…I’d say since my arm surgery, getting it attached and everything.” His face softened and Stephen lost himself in tracing his smile lines with his eyes. “What you were willing to do to make Morgan more comfortable, and to help me out…yeah, that was definitely the start of it.” Stephen couldn’t breathe, the only thing keeping him walking was Tony’s solid grip pulling him forward as he realized just how long his affection for Tony hadn’t been one-sided. 

“Wow”, was all he could manage to say. “I…I didn’t know that.” Tony nodded quietly, like he regretted that fact. 

“And you…?” 

Stephen swallowed. He couldn’t tell him the entire truth, could he? No, that would mean having to tell him about the fourteen million possible futures, and he wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not here, not now. Maybe never. There was too much at stake, too much that could be seen as Stephen taking advantage of Tony, knowing as much as he did about him. The very thought made his heart squirm uncomfortably. 

“Probably, um, when you were done your physio at the Wakanda hospital. The day you were going home, I guess I kind of realized how well I had gotten to know you even then, and how much you had come to mean to me.” **_Liar._**

“I’m sorry”, Tony said, and the look on his face was heartbreaking, like he blamed himself for it all. Stephen felt immediately guilty. But he supposed it would have been worse if he told Tony he’d been undyingly, indescribably in love with him since Tony pulled him out of viewing all the futures on Titan. 

“I don’t blame you”, Stephen rasped with a sad smile, echoing his response from that morning. He stopped as Tony put a hand on his shoulder.

“I do”, Tony chucked almost bitterly. “And I’m going to make it up to you…as much as I can, at least”, he said, pulling Stephen down gently to meet his mouth. Cold lips met cold lips, turning into warmth mouths pressing surely and softly. Stephen hummed as he almost collapsed, trembling like the frozen willow branches above their heads, letting himself be kissed, warmed, taken care of. Tony’s good hand glided up from his shoulder and into its new favourite spot in the sorcerer’s thick, dark hair for a few seconds, before sliding back down to cup his angular cheek. 

“Your ears are frozen, dumbass. I told you to take a hat”, Tony scolded gently as he pulled back suddenly, leaving Stephen panting with open, pink lips. Tony pulling the red toque off his own head and gently pulled it onto Stephen’s, using his good hand to brush the hair off the sorcerer’s forehead. “That’s better.”

“How do I look?”, Stephen asked, still a little breathless as he took Tony’s hand again. 

“Very distinguished”, Tony assured with a massive, teasing grin. The kids had been far enough ahead that they didn’t need to worry about Morgan seeing their kiss, so Stephen let the sensation warm him from his head to his toes without guilt. He could worry about the small lie he had told later. There would come a time where he would find it appropriate to tell Tony about the fourteen million possibilities, but now was not that time, so he continued to struggle to stay in the present.

After nearly an hour of climbing up and sledding down the snow-covered hill (Stephen often dragging Morgan back up on the toboggan with the rope around his waist), they all headed back to the cabin, both kids flopping in the snow every few feet to make snow angels. Stephen was always more than relieved to see that Peter hadn’t lost all of his childish innocence after all he had been through, running beside Morgan through the snow with rosy cheeks and bright laughter. They all stumbled back inside, Tony endeavouring to make hot chocolate as Stephen helped Morgan take off her snow clothes. With snow-bitten cheeks, Peter and Morgan settled on the sofa under a blanket, lifting it over their heads and giggling under the cover of their impromptu fort. Stephen padded into the kitchen, letting a hand rest on the small of Tony’s back as he passed him, grabbing a tray since neither of them could handle carrying two mugs at a time. Tony turned to look at him over his shoulder with a surprised but pleased smile. 

“Thanks, babe”, he whispered as Stephen brought the tray over, sending a thrilled shiver up the sorcerer’s spine. God, Tony could call him anything and he’d melt like candle wax, losing all shape as he was filled head to toe with love for this man. Stephen managed to collect himself back into a vaguely human shape and carried the tray into the living room as Tony poked the teen and toddler-shaped lump of blankets.

“Is there an Underoos and a Moguna under here somewhere?”, Tony asked in a sing song voice, prompting a giggle from the smaller lump under the blanket. “‘Cause they’re gonna miss out on hot chocolate if they don’t come out.” The blanket was hurriedly thrown off, Morgan giggling as she reached for the mug Tony was handing her.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thanks, Dad”, Peter grinned, beaming with contentment as Tony dropped onto the sofa beside him. Tony’s only response was to kiss the teen’s temple, a normal exchange nowadays. Stephen’s heart could melt over and over watching these three precious humans, settling on the sofa beside Morgan with his own mug. She snuggled into his side almost automatically, holding her mug carefully in little hands as she took a sip, giving him a chocolatey milk moustache smile as they all settled into the warmth of each other, the safety and comfort of home. Reality was shut out for several moments as the only sound was that of the crackling fireplace, Stephen feeling as though his chest was about to burst. He was still reeling, from the turmoil of yesterday’s battle and everything that had happened since then. Surely this wasn’t real. Surely that mystical space creature had killed him and this was his version of heaven. But no…he could feel Morgan’s solid, warm little presence pressed against his side, he could feel the slight flush of his cheeks when he met Tony’s eyes over the top of Peter’s head. He could feel his life force connecting with its other half, Tony’s half, in a protective ring of life-giving energy, surrounding the four of them in a moment of utter peace. 

“Hey, can I show you guys a song?”, Peter asked suddenly, looking up from where his head had been resting on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Sure”, Tony shrugged, though Stephen caught him wincing because of the pain in his cybernetic arm, still slung to his chest. 

“It’s kinda old”, Peter explained, almost embarrassed. “Like, 2019, I think.”

“That’s not old, kid”, Tony laughed, ruffling his hair. “I’ll show you some real old music.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve been subjected to hours of AC/DC in the workshop, remember?” Peter rolled his eyes. “FRIDAY, can you please play ‘If the World Was Ending’ by JP Saxe?”

“Playing now”, the AI confirmed. Stephen was lost by the very first piano note. 

_I was distracted and in traffic_

_I didn't feel it when the earthquake happened_

He relaxed as the lull of the music filled every corner of the room, the chorus hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks.

_But if the world was ending, you'd come over, right?_

_You'd come over and you'd stay the night_

_Would you love me for the hell of it?_

By some force of the universe, he and Tony looked over at each other in the same instant, eyes locked like they were holding onto each other, like grappling forearms held desperately on an alien planet. 

_All our fears would be irrelevant_

_If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?_

Space, aliens, monsters, inter dimensional gods, infinity stones, finding each other in the insane turmoil before the events on Titan. 

_The sky'd be falling and I'd hold you tight_

_And there wouldn't be a reason why_

Their connection flowed between them, something that had started forming as soon as Stephen viewed a couple hundred future realities, though Tony didn’t know it yet. Ever since Stephen had pried his soul apart, handing over one half with trembling hands, without hesitation. 

_We wouldn't even have to say goodbye_

_If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? Right?_

**_Right? _**There was so much said in that one word, a period of everything that happened before it.So much hope and doubt flowed through Stephen’s body all at once that he involuntarily shivered. Was he crazy? Was this all too good to be true? Would the universe tear all of this away from him too? **_Are you with me on this?_**, he wanted to ask Tony, to hold him tightly, let him know that he was here too.

“Dad?”

Stephen was snapped out of his thoughts to find Peter looking at Tony in concern, horrified to see tears in the man’s eyes.

“Sorry”, Peter fumbled, looking guilty. “I-I just thought you guys might like it…you know - with everything that’s…sorry.” Tony just grinned, gripping Peter’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry about it, Pete. Your old man’s just turned into a huge sap”, he explained, wiping his good eye quickly as he sent Stephen a quick glance. “Hey, here’s an old song that will make you cringe. FRI, give me ‘Rock Me Gently’.”

“Sure, boss”, FRIDAY said, sounding about as amused as an AI could. 

_Ain't it good_

_Ain't it right_

_That you are with me here tonight_

_The music playing_

“Come dance with me, Petey”, Tony insisted, standing from the sofa for the opening lyrics, hips swishing side to side, working his one arm in to his ‘dancing’ as best he could.

“God, no way”, Peter laughed, burying his head under a pillow. “This is so old.”

“Moguna?”, Tony asked hopefully with a big grin, holding his arm out to her. Morgan immediately complied, letting Stephen take her empty mug as she clambered off the sofa and into her dad’s embrace. He hoisted her onto one hip, swinging her around the room as the song picked up. They did a circle of the entire living room, Stephen watching them with a half grin, practically overflowing with love. Tony then set Morgan down, letting her complete her own terrible rendition of her dad’s dance moves, and seemed to notice the way Stephen was looking at him.

“Doc?”, Tony grinned, holding his hand out. Stephen hesitated, meeting that one brown eye which held all the conviction in the world. The kids didn’t give him the chance to second-guess himself, though, chiding him gently not to be a stick in the mud. The sorcerer stood with a slight huff, and an eye roll just for show, though his heart was pounding in his chest as Tony wrapped one arm around his waist, swaying with him exaggeratedly. 

“Relax, you”, Tony grinned close to his ear, warm and close and everything Stephen had ever wanted, but he was freezing up. He had no idea where to put his hands, scarred and shaking, so settled for Tony’s shoulders. He glanced over to see that the kids were too stuck between amusement and embarrassment, giggling between themselves, that they didn’t notice how tightly Tony was holding the sorcerer, so he let himself relax. 

_Rock me gently_

_Rock me slowly_

_Take it easy_

_Don't you know_

_That I have never been loved like this before_

Stephen couldn't help the smile spilling over his face as Tony held him close and then released his hold on him, dancing around the coffee table. If you wanted to call it dancing. Stephen could only watch in bright-eyed adoration as Tony shook his shoulders to the beat, hips sashaying his way back around the coffee table to dance at the sorcerer. His eyes were gleaming with a playful light that made Stephen’s heart thump.

_Oh my darling_

_Oh my baby_

_You got the moves that drive me crazy_

Tony moved his hips to the music, bumping Stephen with his ass subtly so the sorcerer could only flounder and blush (Error 404: Sorcerer not found). Tony then saved him by wrapping his good arm around his back again, chest to chest as they swayed dramatically. His smile was so infectious that Stephen let a relaxed grin tug at the corners of his mouth, loosely wrapping his wrists around the back of Tony’s neck.

“There you go”, Tony muttered, their lips so close they might as well have been kissing. 

_And on your face I see a trace of love_

_Of love, of love, of love_

_Come hold me close_

_Don't let me go_

“You’re a very good dancer”, Stephen managed in a teasing tone, noticing how Tony’s hand was gently caressing his back as they swayed. Tony met his gaze with the stars in his eyes, grinning so widely that he couldn’t even pretend to be offended. _Oh, god… _His smile was Stephen’s favourite thing in the world. 

_I need you, honey_

_I love you so_

_You were made for me by the stars above_

“You might need some more practice. I can’t be seen with someone who can’t bust a move”, Tony smirked, poking the sorcerer’s side gently so that Stephen didn’t have any room to second-guess whether he was kidding or not. 

_Rock me gently_

_Rock me slowly_

_Take it easy_

_Don't you know_

_That I have never been loved like this before_

The song ended and they didn’t pull apart immediately. Why would they? Peter knew about them and Morgan…well, it was fair to say that Morgan noticed a lot more than most adults would give her credit for. Besides, they were both occupied by a video Peter was showing her on his phone. So Stephen busied himself with memorizing the way Tony’s good eye sparkled when he was truly happy, the way his smile lines creased in a relaxed way when he smiled a real smile. 

“You’re beautiful”, Stephen whispered, heart pounding, though it twisted in his chest when Tony’s smile fell at his words. Tony’s arm dropped from his side, giving the sorcerer an apologetic grin as he stepped back.

“And you’re ridiculous”, Tony rasped, a perfect replica of their exchange from that morning, forcing a smile as he stepped back towards the kitchen. “I’m, uh, just gonna make a quick call to Wakanda. See if Dr. Baradii can fit me in.” Stephen nodded numbly, watching as Tony picked his phone up and dialled the number, meandering into the kitchen as he greeted whoever answered. Stephen stood for a second, frozen, before he noticed Peter watching him in concern, Morgan still enthralled by the video on his phone. 

“It’s okay”, Peter comforted awkwardly. “It…it’s not you. He just…doesn’t like to talk about his looks much these days. You know…after everything.” 

Stephen nodded, not knowing what to say. To see the flirty, gorgeous, seemingly self-confident man crumble when he was complimented on his appearance…it was enough to make Stephen choke, enough to make him want to strangle whoever had made Tony feel like that. But he knew who had crushed Tony’s confidence like this and, glancing at Morgan, mixed emotions swirled through his chest, caught between anger and sympathy as he thought of Pepper and Tony’s relationship. But it would be fine, he was sure. He would use his rusty artillery of patchwork compliments and loving touches to mend the ragged quilt that was Tony’s self-image. It would take time, but that was fine. Time was something they had in spades these days.

*****

Tony woke before the sun for once on Sunday morning, placing a gentle kiss on Stephen’s cheek before rolling out of bed as quietly as possible, careful not to wake him. He pulled on the huge MIT hoodie from the day before, shuffling into a pair of slippers as he tiptoed downstairs, avoiding the creaky stair on the way down. His coffee steamed hotly in the cool morning air, setting his mug down on the railing as he pulled the fleece blanket from the sofa around his shoulders. Tony sighed in contentment as he sipped his coffee, rich and black just like he liked it, sitting back on the porch swing. The dawn was still grey as the beginning tendrils of orange sunlight began to seep over the horizon, like milk spreading in coffee once it was poured. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay out here long, snow still piled on the branches of the trees and several feet deep on the ground, but he’d enjoy the peaceful chill for as long as he could. 

Breathing in the sweet, pine cold air, Tony could finally let the past two days sink in a little. 

Yesterday, after their living room dance, Tony had finished making his surgery appointment with Dr. Baradii, walking back from the kitchen to find Stephen explaining spells to Morgan and Peter as he fixed his cloak. Both kids were listening intently, leaning forward as they hung on the sorcerer’s every word. Tony stood in the threshold for a moment, watching as the sorcerer patiently described what he was doing, ruined, scarred hands becoming powerful as gold sparks magically stitched Levi’s torn pieces back together. He watched, smiling as Morgan squeaked in delight as Levi, whole once again, wrapped around her in excitement, patting her hair affectionately. Stephen had looked up, meeting Tony’s eyes with a contented grin that set his heart to pounding, galaxy-colored eyes twinkling like a million stars, and Tony might have fallen completely in love in that moment. 

Later that evening, when they were all preparing dinner together, Morgan had become a little too enthusiastic in her stirring of the pasta sauce, tomatoes flying across the kitchen. Tony had been the only victim, assuring Morgan that his MIT sweatshirt had seen worse. He had been changing his sweatshirt in his bedroom when he looked up to find Stephen leaning against the doorway.

“Jeez, you’re like a cat”, Tony gasped, hand to his chest in a feigned heart attack. “What, do I need to buy you a bell or something?” He walked over to stand, facing the sorcerer in the doorway, only slightly annoyed that he had to stand on tiptoe to look him in the eyes.

“I’m not wearing a bell”, Stephen rumbled softly, and the sound traveled right down Tony’s spine. 

“Tap shoes, then”, Tony purred. “Bangles? Just so you don’t give me a heart attack, is all.”

“Right, of course. So it’s just for your health?” Stephen leaned closer and Tony’s heart jumped like some sort of nervous teenager. He saved face by pursing his lips playfully.

“Of course”, he chided as he walked into the hall, continuing to wage in their sexually charged staring contest, promptly tripping over the potted plant outside the bedroom door.

“Tony!”

Tony caught himself against the wall with his good arm, but the large hosta plant was a little worse off, tipped over and half out of its pot with a few leaves mangled.

“Shit”, Tony hissed. “Jeremy.” Stephen quirked a brow, still concerned, but not for Tony’s physical health anymore.

“Jeremy?”

“Yes. That’s his name”, Tony said, trying to right the pot and scoop the spilled soil back in with his one arm. “That’s what Morgan named him, okay?”

“Okay”, Stephen relented, and Tony’s cheeks flushed at the teasing twinge to his baritone. Silently, the sorcerer kneeled beside Tony, using gentle, shaking hands to scoop soil back into the pot, bronze sparks lighting his fingertips as the broken, bruised leaves were healed. And Tony fell a little more in love, if possible. 

“So”, Stephen drawled, and Tony could detect something distinctly midwestern. “Jeremy?”

“Yes”, Tony sniffed. “And the spider plant in the guest bathroom is Benjamin. Did you introduce yourself, or what?” He was thrown off when Stephen just chuckled and got to his feet, offering Tony his hand.

“Your hands…”, Tony faltered, looking up to meet his eyes. The sorcerer just rolled this eyes gently.

“Just grab my arm”, Stephen insisted, and Tony let him pull him to his feet, nearly chest to chest with the taller man once he stood. “You’re adorable”, Stephen smiled, pressing his lips to Tony’s parted ones softly, like he might shatter like glass if he touched him too roughly. Tony’s response was to cup the back of his neck with his good hand, pulling the sorcerer down so he could kiss him soundly, chest swelling with relief. His soul dropped into his feet, grounding him like a cemented pillar, warmth swarming him from head to toe. Kissing had never felt like this. Even when he was a rowdy youngster, and all he did was party and kiss people he shouldn’t, he had never kissed anyone who electrified every inch of his body like Stephen did. This soft, beguiling man would look at him and Tony wanted to catch on fire with the desperation of needing to touch him, hold him, protect him, give him everything he had. And now he could. Oh, and how he would. 

Things finally felt like they were falling into place, like pool balls had been scattered across the fabric of reality for the past however long, and they were finally dropping into their pockets. As odd as it was, it felt as though his bent up corner of jigsaw had been flattened out and Stephen had come up to meet it perfectly, snapping into place like it was always meant to be. After having to fight tooth and claw for every bit of good he had ever had, Tony was grateful for every second of peace with Stephen. He couldn’t help but vaguely wonder what his life would have been like if he had met Stephen sooner, how things might be different now. Would the Snap have even happened if he had had the sorcerer to rely on all those years, one person to listen to him as he tried to build an armour around the world? He shook his head absently. Better not to dwell on hypotheticals, like Happy always said. But it was hard to not get lost in some of the more romantic ones. The idea of having this sort of undying support and loyalty back during the Sokovia Accord debacle…or even earlier…palladium poisoning… Stop. 

He pulled at his chin absently, still not used to the lack of hair there. Maybe he’d grow it back. Stephen hadn’t said it, but he seemed to prefer the goatee to the clean shaven look. Tony smirked quietly at himself. 

To think he was fretting over Stephen Strange’s preference of his looks…the suggestion would have made him laugh several months ago. Or maybe not. Maybe he’d been gone on the sorcerer even longer than he realized, far before even his arm surgery in Wakanda. Maybe he and Stephen had been planned in the very fabric of the universe since the beginning of time, woven through stars and billions of variables that had somehow led to this timeline in this reality, in this universe. Years, ago Tony would have doubted that the multiverse even existed, now here he was contemplating if soulmates were a thing.

Tony laughed at himself quietly, sipping his coffee as he watched the sun begin to meld golden light over the feathery tips of the distant conifer forest. He sighed in contentment, realizing his chest didn’t hurt for the first time in…okay, a long time. Maybe fifteen years. It came of sleeping inches away from the other half of the life force, of that he was sure, the thought pulling an almost giddy grin over his face. It was a little odd, he supposed, he and Stephen sharing a bed like an old married couple when they hadn’t even _‘slept’_ together yet. But what wasn’t odd about their relationship? They shared two halves of one soul, for fucks sakes. It hadn’t bothered either of them, in fact, it had just felt right. Especially after the events of Friday, the battle that Tony was still having a hard time thinking about; it felt right to be entwined together under the covers, lost in warmth and comfort as they slept in each other’s arms like they’d been doing it for centuries. So much of their relationship was undefined, yet unspoken of, but this part they had gotten right so far, at least. 

Tony shivered, and whether it was a thrilled rush or from the cold, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. He thought of the day yet to come, though of the tea that he should go in and make, that he would bring up to Stephen, sweet with a drop of honey, that he would taste on his tongue as they kissed. Yes, there was a lot they needed to figure out but, for now, the simple, little things were good. They felt right. 

It was okay. They had time. 


	17. We'll Never Be Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Stephen get the chance to start settling into some semblance of 'normal'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would absolutely lose my mind with gratitude if ya'll left a comment with something you like from this chapter <3
> 
> This chapter is all over the place (I'm sorry this update took so bloody long, online school because of covid-19 + migraines is a bad combo for writing), in which everyone knew Tony and Stephen were in love, except for Tony and Stephen. Yes, this chapter is senseless, fluffy drabble. Plot? I don’t know her. But sometimes you need a filler chapter in which to have fun, and I feel like I needed some time to give everyone a chance to just be, you know?
> 
> Newsflash: Stephen is soft for all of Tony’s kids, even if he’s still trying to figure Harley out…Stephen and Peter get some time to bond.
> 
> Hello, yes, I love May Parker. She loves all of her chaotic boys. And we live for Irondad in in this house, but we also don’t stand for Aunt May erasure.

It felt weird to wake up alone on Monday morning.

Tony was surprised by how quickly he had gotten used to sharing a bed with Stephen, now missing the dip in the mattress created by another warm body which he had to get re-accustomed to after months of sleeping alone. But even after just two nights spent with the sorcerer over the course of the weekend, the bed felt cold and empty, leaving Tony to curl his body around one pillow, and shoving his face into the one Stephen had used. Even after just two nights, the pillow case was laced wth hints of black tea and the almost smoky smell of magic which singed the sorcerer’s aura. 

The weekend had been spent with just the four of them, lost in some sort of suspended bliss, hidden away from the real world as Tony and Stephen began to settle into each other, like a favourite old sweater you hadn’t worn in years. They were both still terrified, of course. Stephen had never been in any sort of long-term relationship and Tony had obviously just come out of a thirteen-year-long commitment which had never really been the epitome of a healthy relationship, even from the beginning. So to say they were terrified of messing up would be an understatement. Tony could see it in the way Stephen gauged everything he did around him, not wanting to cross any sort of unseen boundaries because, as much as he wouldn’t like to admit it, and as close as they already were, there was so much they still didn’t know about each other. There were the little tics and habits and idiosyncrasies which they could only come to know about each other with time. But it was fine, because they were both willing to take that time, to deal with the big things and the little things and everything in between. Tony was sure that it would take longer than one dream-like weekend for them just to get past the thrilling shock of finally getting to touch each other openly, time to admit and process that this was finally actually happening. 

Tony had dwelled about this and the universe as he sat on the porch early Sunday morning with his coffee, until he was too cold to sit there any longer, ducking back into the warmth of the kitchen to start the kettle. This was easy. There were certain parts of their friendship which could be easily translated into a romantic relationship, especially the beginning parts, like knowing how Stephen took his tea. Then there were things which had traversed across the boundaries of normal friendship, such as knowing that Stephen would usually be up at the crack of dawn, a cup of black tea or roobois at his side as he picked through a chapter of the current novel he was reading for pleasure. 

Tony had carried the mug of tea carefully up the stairs, toeing the door open gently as he peered into the room, trying to see if Stephen was awake yet in the low light the grey dawn offered. He could make out the sorcerer’s dark hair as he huddled under the duvet, stirring with a groan as Tony entered the room.

“You up, Steph?”, Tony tried in a whisper, pulling the covers back again as he settled his weight carefully on the bed. He was surprised to see a small lump shift under the covers, Morgan’s head becoming visible as she peered up at her dad sleepily. 

“What are you doing in here, munchkin?”, Tony asked, every inch of him filled with warm contentment to see her cuddled against the sorcerer’s chest in the safe cocoon of the blankets, like she had always belonged there.

“Bad dream”, she informed him in a groggy voice, before ducking back down, nestled against Stephen as she hugged her Spider Man plush. Stephen finally blinked awake at the sound of Tony’s voice, meeting him with a rumbled purr and a grin. 

“Hey”, he rasped sleepily, and Tony’s heart thumped like it never had. God, he could wake up to this man every single day for the rest of his life and he’d never get sick of him. Tony smiled back at him, eyes softening as his heart fluttered with some kind of love sick reverie. This was everything, this was all he had ever wanted. He set the mug of tea carefully on the bedside table as he crawled back under the covers on his side of the bed, cocooning Morgan between them, kissing her cheek as she instinctively cuddled against him.

“Daddy!”, she squeaked. “You’re cold!”

“Sorry, Moguna”, Tony whispered, huddling back under the covers tightly as he felt his cold-numb skin begin to prickle as warmth seeped back into his body. He met Stephen’s eyes in the grey dawn, a deep blue that was mostly green in the low light, smiling involuntarily as he reached across to brush the hair off the sorcerer’s forehead tenderly. “I brought you a tea”, he whispered, chest swirling with all the mixed emotions that came with the disbelief of this perfect moment. There was no way he deserved this. 

“Thank you”, Stephen whispered back, still sleepy as he closed his eyes in contentment against Tony’s touch. “Why are you so cold?”, he asked, brow creasing adorably as he frowned at Tony slightly. Tony wanted to kiss him in that moment more than anything.

“I wanted to watch the sun come up”, Tony replied simply, his voice hushed as Morgan dozed, returned to her spot huddled against the sorcerer’s broad chest. Stephen’s responded with a patient, quietly exasperated look that was almost drowned out by the affectionate light in his eyes as he slid his hand across underneath the covers, Morgan contently wedged between them as he hooked a hand softly over Tony’s hip. Tony hummed in response, lost in the contact of Stephen’s large, gentle hand, dozing and softly playing with the sorcerer’s hair until they decided to drag themselves out of bed. 

The three of them pulled sweatshirts and slippers on and stumbled down to the kitchen (it was only 8:00 am, Peter wouldn’t be up for at least an hour), where Stephen quickly took charge. Those idiosyncrasies Tony was dwelling on before? This was decidedly one of them. Stephen had a very particular breakfast routine, not to be interfered with as he had an almost methodical procedure for cooking everyone’s fried eggs to their preferred way. 

“Need a hand, Steph?”, Tony offered, delegated to toast duty, standing at the toaster and buttering the slices as well as he could with one hand. Stephen had patiently assured him that he was quite capable of flipping eggs, and Tony wondered absently if it was a matter of pride with his hands. That was, until, Tony watched as the sorcerer dropped a kiss onto Morgan’s sleepy head as he served her a plate of eggs, and he saw all the care and responsibility in those hands, and he understood. Stephen would do anything to not seem like an invalid, to not let his disability make him the weak link in their little family. Tony’s heart hurt thinking that the sorcerer might feel he needed to prove his usefulness in order to be kept around, though he knew the feeling all too well. This thought was uncomfortable enough that it drove Tony to his feet, walking over to Stephen and planting a kiss on his surprised cheek before going to pour a tea for them both. 

It took some convincing, but Stephen finally sat down with his own plate of eggs, sunny side up, relaxing visibly when Tony sat down with him, sipping at his mug of tea. Tony sighed and watched him pick apart his breakfast, the sorcerer cutting into a fried egg with undo precision. 

**_He eats like he’s conducting surgery_**, Tony thought. Shaky surgery, but surgery nonetheless. And it was weird, but Tony loved it. Loved it, loved him. It was so…_Stephen_, muscle memory causing him to dissect his meal with painful accuracy, fussy and particular, and a little bitchy sometimes, everything having to be just so even if he was bleary-eyed with his mess of charcoal and silver hair. He was real and alive and so painfully human that Tony could just die from loving him so much. 

That night after dinner, Stephen had been adorably reluctant to leave, though Wong had finally convinced him to return to the real word, pointing out that his neglected menial duties as Sorcerer Supreme weren’t going anywhere. Wong had been more relieved than surprised at the development in their relationship, infinitely more concerned about the several Masters who were at his throat about inter dimensional disturbances since the Sorcerer Supreme was ‘away sick’. 

They parted with a chaste kiss on the porch in the golden glow of the setting sun, the regret showing through in those crazy kaleidoscope eyes when Stephen pulled back, looking down at Tony like he was leaving for the war. 

“Don’t look at me like that”, Tony teased, bumping his nose against the sorcerer’s as he lifted up onto his toes to press another quick kiss to his lips. “You’re not dying, you just have to go to work. Besides, I’ll see you on Tuesday.” 

Tony had, in fact, been able to get a surgery appointment booked at the Wakanda hospital for Tuesday afternoon, nerves racing through him at the thought, but he pushed them down for now.

“I know”, Stephen rumbled, reluctance still bleeding into his tone. “I just…every time I leave, I’ve always wondered if I’m ever going to see you again.” He looked to his feet, embarrassed, while Tony’s heart did a weird, terrible flip in his chest. “Hard to break that thought process, I guess.” Stephen looked guilty as he met Tony’s eyes, making the other man check the heartbroken expression on his own face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said th-.” 

He was cut off as Tony pulled him down into a crushing kiss, good arm wrapped around the sorcerer’s back while he pried his surprised lips apart with his own tongue, Stephen’s mouth opening willingly to accept him. Tony was lost in his touch, tongues hot and steady, until he had to pull back for air, both their faces flushed as Stephen gave him a breathless half smile.

“What was that for?”, he rumbled uncertainly as Tony still held him, the sound reverberating through Tony’s chest pleasantly. 

“I told you”, Tony muttered, eyes locked with Stephen’s in adoration, lips so close he could still feel his gently panting breaths. “I’m not going anywhere, babe.” Tony’s chest warmed in relief as a blush rose over the sorcerer’s cheeks, grinning softly at the pet name. “You believe me?”

“Yes, I suppose I might”, Stephen rasped with a chuckle, arms wrapped around him and Tony’s heart could barely handle the sensation of being held in his big, steady arms, safe and sure for the moment, at least. “You’re very convincing.”

“Good”, Tony tried to snark back, but his voice was too soft, still trying to collect his heart back up into its proper shape. “I’ll see you Tuesday, then.”

“See you.”

And then Stephen’s warm arms were gone from around him, one last kiss pressed to Tony’s forehead as a shiver raced through his entire body, returning the sorcerer’s wave as he opened a gateway, and stepped through it with a saucy wink. Tony’s fluttering heart reverie was short-lived, though, as the familiar sound of repulsors being slowed echoed over the lake, the War Machine armour coming into view over the trees like a silver and black bullet tinged by the golden light. Tony stepped off the front steps just as Rhodey stepped out of the armour, though Tony stopped in his tracks once he saw the enraged expression on the colonel’s face.

“Hey, sour patch. What’s up with the face?”, Tony tried, an uneasy grin making its way onto his face in a last ditch attempt to quell his friend’s apparent fury. It was no use, though, as Rhodey strode up to him and shoved his phone in his face.

“How about you explain what’s up with this?”, he growled, showing Tony a video off the news of Iron Man fighting a ‘gargantuan celestial creature’. 

“Stephen and I are together now”, Tony tried in one last futile attempt to distract his friend. “He was over all weekend.” Rhodey wasn’t even remotely phased.

“Well, thank fucking goodness to that. About time you kids got your shit figured out, but that’s not what I want to talk about right now.” He lifted the phone again so Tony was forced to look at the video. “Explain this to me.”

“Well, I was going to confess to Stephen like you told me to, but that thing interrupted me. Very rude-.”

“What the fuck, Tones? What happened to the promise you made to Morgan?” Tony shifted uneasily, trying to hide how even a five second clip of that snake creature sent his heart racing, his stomach dipping unsteadily in anxiety.

“That’s not even me in that shot”, Tony retorted smugly. “That’s when Stephen was using the suit.” Rhodey was pissed off enough that he didn’t even roll his eyes.

“You were in the suit at some point, okay? Fighting that…thing.”

“I was literally right there when it happened”, Tony defended himself weakly. “One second Stephen and I were having lunch, and then suddenly there was a giant snake. What did you want me to do?” 

“Uh, call for back up?”, Rhodey suggested impatiently, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Call me? Stay on the ground? Help civilians without using the armour?”, his friend listed off with increasing frustration. “Literally anything, except tackling some giant space thing with a bum arm and a wizard who’s still weak from splitting himself in two!”

“There wasn’t any time”, Tony insisted, ignoring the comment about Stephen’s health. “If we had waited for back up, there would have been civilian casualties for sure. Do you think I would have been able to stand around and watch people die when I could have done something about it?! I couldn’t do that, Rhodey! You know that.” Rhodey’s only response was to sigh heavily.

“Tony, for god’s sakes…you’re still in recovery. You were nowhere near battle ready and… you could have been killed! Alright?! You were there as a civilian and you should have called for backup. That’s the end of it.” 

“I’m not a civilian!’, Tony retorted sharply.

“Well, maybe you should be”, Rhodey said levelly. “Maybe you should retire already before you leave your little girl without a dad.” Tony’s heart dropped as he met his friend's face with a frown.

“Low blow, Rhodes.” Rhodey raised both arms in exasperation.

“It’s the truth! How many close calls is it going to take for you to get it through your thick skull?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Tony wished desperately that they could be on the same page, the same point of view. After years of throwing himself in the line of fire, Tony couldn’t very well change his entire way of thinking overnight, but he was more than willing to start trying. For his family. 

“Listen, Tones”, Rhodey started again, more calmly as his head tilted a little in a desperate attempt to connect with him. “I know…I know you’ve got your…stuff…and you’re trying to work through everything in your own way, but you’ve gotta let go of some things.” Tony met his eyes with a remorseful frown. He knew exactly what he meant.

“The suits”, Tony muttered softly, scuffing the toe of his shoe through the snow. He hadn’t felt the cold seeping through his cardigan until just then, shivering a little in the late February chill. Rhodes nodded slowly, acknowledging the grief that came along with such a statement.

“Yeah, the suits.”

Silence fell over them as a cold breeze blew and Tony went through almost all seven stages of grief within a few seconds. He passed by denial and slammed right into anger, frustration at the whole situation, the futile argument squashed as soon as it began to form in his mind. This was it. Fear and helplessness settled into his chest, his cybernetic arm still trussed up uselessly in a sling as he stood facing Rhodey, before grief overtook his pounding heart heavily, finally simmering into the beginning stages of gentle acceptance.

“Come on”, Tony said, gesturing back towards the house, looking up at Rhodey with resignation painted on his face clearly. “Morgan will want to see her favourite uncle.” Rhodey smiled gently, empathetically, seeing the acceptance to defeat in the way Tony’s shoulders softened a little.

“You and I both know that’s not true”, the colonel grinned as Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and lead him up the steps of the porch. “She’s had Happy wrapped around her little finger from the very start.” They both laughed as Tony opened the front door for him, Tony pausing as he looked at the spot on the porch where he and Stephen had kissed only minutes ago. 

Yeah, maybe he could give up the suits. For his family. 

*****

Tuesday afternoon came quickly, Tony waiting on the porch swing, pursuing scientific articles on his tablet when Stephen stepped through a gateway and onto the snow-covered front lawn. Tony swore he could see a bit of a bounce in the sorcerer’s step as he half-jogged up the front steps, meeting Tony in a gentle, sweeping hug, Levi joining in and cocooning them in warmth.

“Oh, it’s been forever, love”, Tony teased sarcastically as he kissed Stephen’s cheek and then his lips, sighing a little as he melted under the sorcerer’s touch, yearning for when he’d be able to hug him with both arms and hold on to him like his life depended on it. 

“You’re terrible”, Stephen snarled playfully, lips pressed to Tony’s neck in a moment of confidence, the flitting brush of the sorcerer’s warm mouth on his throat enough to send a shiver up Tony’s spine. Tony couldn’t remember ever being held like that, gentle touches like he was something to be revered, despite being so broken. It felt surreal and he felt undeserving. They both pulled back after that, embarrassed, but too lost in the rush of affection to let it bother them for long.

Tony ducked into the cabin to grab his overnight bag, giving Stephen a peck on the lips when the sorcerer reminded him to grab his tablet with all of his surgery admittance forms on it. Morgan was at Pepper’s, so they could both focus solely on Tony’s operation, though Tony found himself wishing for the distraction of his daughter’s presence as he stepped through a gateway to Wakanda with Stephen. Walking to the front door of the hospital with his shoulder brushing Stephen’s, Tony couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time they had walked side-by-side through these doors. It was almost half a year ago, when he’d first had his cybernetic arm attached, and Morgan was rushed into emergency appendicitis surgery. How things had changed since then, Tony thought bittersweetly, his heart thudding soundly in his chest as he watched Stephen take charge, submitting his admittance forms to the front desk receptionist, and asking particulars about the post-surgery accommodations. Tony attempted to soothe the sorcerer’s jitters with a calming hand on his forearm, simultaneously realizing that this was their first time in public as a ‘couple’. 

_Were they a couple yet? _

Tony wasn’t sure, and this wasn’t the time to ask as they were directed to an examining room for Tony’s pre-surgery examination. He was drawn down memory lane again as they sat, waiting for the doctor in the too-sterile examining room, a perfect mirror of Tony’s first surgery. Except this time, Tony wasn’t shaking with anxiety as he sat alone on the examining table, quipping back and forth with the sorcerer who was trying his best to distract him. This time, they sat side-by-side on a pair of chairs, Stephen holding his one good hand, fingers intertwined while he muttered comforting nonsense beside Tony’s ear in that intoxicating baritone of his. 

Dr. Baradii came and conducted Tony’s exam, which went over flawlessly, receiving comments on his weight and muscle gain which were meant as compliments, but Tony was determined to twist the doctor’s meaning, if only to distract himself from the impending surgery. 

“Did you hear him? He thinks I’m fat”, Tony muttered in fake accusation once Dr. Baradii had left the room, swinging his legs like a kid as he sat on the examining table. Stephen just chuckled, meeting Tony’s eyes with a patient look.

“Well, I think you’re perfect”, Stephen muttered, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple. Tony would be lying if he denied the heat that rose to his cheeks, blushing like he was some sort of goddamn teenager or something. 

Their goodbye before this surgery was about as emotional as the first, though this specific operation was much less risky than when his arm was being attached. Dr. Baradii had explained it thoroughly to Tony when he had called to schedule the surgery, (sending scans of the arm over to the doctor via FRIDAY) making a point of mentioning that the recovery time would also be significantly less. It turned out that, at some point while fighting the celestial snake, Tony had snapped the equivalent of an upper arm ligament in his cybernetic arm, meaning that the synthetic piece needed to be replaced. The pain would be minimal, especially in comparison to his first surgery, and recovery time would be a week at the most, though it would take some time to strengthen the new piece of the arm. 

None of this did much to quell the anxiety in Tony’s chest as he sat up in the gurney, feeling ridiculous and exposed in a hospital gown as he let Stephen take his watch off. It was another perfect mirror of a moment from six months ago, like an echo through time, and the thought made Tony shiver. Nurses attached him to several different monitors as they prepared to wheel him into the operation room, making sure he didn’t hold on to Stephen’s hand too tightly, though he was trying to look casual about the whole thing. Stephen seemed to be faring slightly better, rubbing comforting circles on Tony’s good hand as he distracted him with nonsense about what fun things they were going to do with Morgan once they got back home. His anxiety only spiked as they both remembered his pendant needed to come off as well, Stephen delicately unclasping the tiny Eye of Agomotto from around Tony’s neck, re-clasping it around his own with the assurance that Tony would get it back the second he was out of surgery. 

“Hold on to that for me?”, Tony asked as he nodded, trying to swallow the anxiety flooding his chest as he pointed to the watch held in Stephen’s shaking hand, meeting his eyes as he meant more than he had said. 

“Always”, Stephen muttered with a nervous smile that was meant to be comforting, dipping down to graze a soft kiss against Tony’s scarred cheek. “I’ll be right here when you get out. Not that I have much choice in moving once you go under.” Tony couldn’t help but smirk, remembering the effects that his own anaesthetic had on Stephen’s body. 

“Can’t wait to see you, spaghetti”, he teased, though his nerves showed through in the tremors of his voice as an orderly came to wheel him away. Tony focused on Stephen’s eyes as he was pushed through a set of doors, until he disappeared behind them, closing his eyes tightly for a moment to imprint those silver-blue-green eyes in his minds eye. And, as the anaesthetic mask went on and he counted down from ten, he held onto the feeling of soft lips on his scarred cheek, darkness overwhelming him quickly. 

When Tony opened his eyes again, it was to a clean, bright hospital room, blinking against the intense light assaulting his eyes, though the blinds were closed to keep out the worst of the sun. To the left of the bed sat a worried sorcerer, and Tony looked over to groggily meet those silvery green eyes he’d hung onto until the last seconds before the anesthesia took him under. 

“Hey, Steph”, he rasped, eliciting a relieved smile from Stephen, who stood from his chair to immediately press a kiss to Tony’s forehead. Tony swam through the sea of morphine to enjoy the tiny jolt of electricity that traveled over his skin at the contact. Maybe it was the immense wave of relief that washed over him, or all the morphine he was on making him deliriously emotional, but Tony was mortified to find tears welling in his good eye, trickling down his cheek as Stephen brushed them away with a gentle thumb.

“Hey, yourself”, the sorcerer rumbled gently, overwhelming affection bleeding into his voice, kissing Tony’s cheek twice before sitting on the edge of the bed and gesturing for Tony to give him his good arm. “Come here”, Stephen muttered, pulling Tony’s watch out of his pocket, taking his wrist in his big, careful doctor’s hands and gently re-buckling the leather band. 

“You’re cute when you’re worried”, Tony rasped, smiling groggily as he watched the sorcerer falter a little at the compliment, but his doctor instincts helped him push past it. 

“How are you feeling?”, Stephen asked gently, concern flitting over his features. God, he was beautiful, even when he was worried to death, the worry pulling his gorgeous lips into an uncharacteristic pout. 

“Like re-fried beans, honey, but thanks for asking”, Tony quipped, voice a little slurred from the painkillers, but the look in Stephen’s eyes told him that the sorcerer wasn’t fooled by his joking facade. Tony had been scared. Scared shitless, actually, that this minor inconvenience would be the thing to take him out just as he was grasping the edges of everything he had ever wanted. 

Their eyes met again as Tony was lost in those galaxy-colored depths, and the only thing grounding him was the familiar, comforting touch on his wrist. They sat in familiar silence for a while, just enjoying the relief of one another’s company until Tony asked how the operation had gone and Stephen filled him in, his eidetic memory supplying everything the doctor had told him while he waited for Tony to wake up. 

The surgery had gone over flawlessly, the broken artificial ligament removed and replaced with the new one without any complications, though the only pre-conceived concern had been how Tony’s heart would react under anesthesia. After a day of careful monitoring, Tony was allowed to return home for the rest of his recovery, though he was required to wear the sling for at least another week, in hopes of preventing the new component of his arm from becoming aggravated. So Tony was left to distractedly fiddle with his pendant, back in it’s rightful place around his neck as Stephen took care of discharging him at the front desk on Wednesday afternoon. The warm, gold metal of the miniature Eye was comforting with its slight weight and the ingrained pattern on its front, turning as he felt a soft hand on the small of his back. Tony smiled and it took everything in him not to kiss the sorcerer as they made their way to the front doors. They had yet to discuss how public their relationship would be at this point, but in that moment, Tony found himself realizing that he didn’t care what anyone saw or thought, but he assured himself that such things would happen all in good time.

*****

Tony’s allotted recovery time after his surgery proved to be perfect timing as Peter had requested his presence at MIT’s spring open house, about a week after the synthetic ligament in his arm was replaced. Peter had been over for Friday night dinner when he had asked, pushing his peas around his plate embarrassedly as he asked if Tony wouldn’t be too busy to come, as if showing Peter around his old haunts wouldn’t make Tony’s entire week. The relieved, joyful look on Peter’s face after he accepted his invitation was enough to melt Tony’s old, fissure-cracked heart. This was only made worse when the teen turned to Stephen and asked if he might be able to come along also, if he wasn’t too occupied with inter dimensional gobbledygook. Peter’s words, definitely not Stephen’s. Then his heart was broken a little by the surprised look on the sorcerer’s face, as if he couldn’t fathom being asked to join in on a family outing. Peter had assured Stephen that he was more than welcome and there would be plenty of room in the car for the trip down (not knowing about his car-related trauma, Tony realized), and Stephen accepted the invitation with a shy grin.

The day before they were all supposed to drive with May down to Massachusetts, Tony and Morgan were taking a walk around the lake, though it was more like Tony was walking while Morgan charged ahead on the familiar trail through the woods. Tony watched as she ran through the snow which was mushy underfoot in the mild afternoon, nearing March and more pleasant weather as they were. His overprotective instincts compelled him to call her back to him, especially when it was just the two of them. But he reasoned with himself that there wasn’t much trouble she could get into as long as she stayed on the trail, and he was much stronger than he had been even a few months ago. A warm breeze blew through the boughs of the pine trees, ruffling Tony’s hair slightly and he let himself take in a breath, the tightness constricting his chest loosening a little as he forced himself to relax even as Morgan ran around the bend and out of sight. It had been so long since he didn’t have anything to worry about, his body wasn’t used to the feeling of relaxing. His moment of peace was short-lived, though, as Tony rounded the bend also and couldn’t see Morgan on the trail ahead. 

“Morgan!”, he called, worry already constricting his voice slightly. “Where’d you go, Moguna?! Daddy needs to be able to see you!” Tony stopped dead, holding his breath as he was horrified to realize the only sound he could hear was the rushing of wind through the pine trees. 

**_Oh, god. Oh, fuck. No, no, no, no, this is bad._**

His mind was already scattered with all the jumbled possibilities, running possible scenarios through his mind. Pepper would never forgive him if something happened to Morgan while she was in his care. He’d lose their joint custody, he’d never be able to see Morgan again. Should he put on the suit? The nano housing suddenly weighed heavily on his chest. He’d refused to leave the house without it after what had happened in the Village with Stephen, even if it was just to take a walk around the property. But he didn’t have time to weigh his decision any further as Morgan suddenly burst out of the underbrush, eyes blazing with wild energy as she turned and caught sight of her dad. 

“Morgan!”, Tony called uselessly, hiding the choked tremor in his voice as she ran up to him, and he kneeled quickly, hands outstretched shakily. “Where’d you go, baby? You’re supposed to stay on the trail.” Morgan pouted innocently as she let him pick some twigs out of her hair, a few souvenirs from her detour into the bush. 

“Sorry, Daddy, but I saw a wolf!” Tony raised a brow in contemplative interest, trying to gently untangle the worst of the twigs. 

“Is that so? You sure it wasn’t just the neighbours’ cat like last time? The big grey one?” Morgan shook her head decisively.

“No, it looked like a wolf. I know it was.” Tony smiled patiently, playing along with her game.

“Are you sure? How big was it?” Morgan cocked her head to the side in deep thought, brow furrowed a little as she answered.

“Uh, wolf-sized?” Tony tried to control his knee-jerk reaction of initiating the nano housing as the realization hit him that maybe Morgan actually had seen something other than the neighbours’ cat. And she had been chasing after it. Without him knowing. It could have attacked her. He tried desperately to keep the fear out of his eyes as he scooped her up with his good arm (he’d been allowed to take the sling off his cybernetic arm only two days ago, he wasn’t taking any chances with it) and quickly scanned the brush around them. The trees were tall with nearly black bark and it was hard to see more than a couple dozen feet into them. 

“What do you say we head back home?”, Tony said, already turning and heading back down the trail to the cabin as Morgan leaned back over his shoulder, pointing excitedly. 

“Look! There he is!”

Tony turned on a dime, Morgan clutched against his side with his good arm as he powered up the repulsor in the palm of his cybernetic hand. There on the trail was an enormous grey-brown dog that could easily be mistaken for a wolf. Or a husky, Tony thought. The dog had a long, fluffy coat that was matted with dirt and possibly blood, pointed ears pricked as it regarded them with one intelligent brown eye, its right eye blue with blindness and a twisted scar over that side of its face.

“He has an eye boo boo”, Morgan said carefully, with sympathy. “Like Daddy.” Tony smirked at the comparison, but still kept his cybernetic arm raised, frozen in a staring contest with the huge dog. “Don’t hurt him, Daddy”, Morgan whined desperately as she pulled on his arm. “He’s not a bad boy.” Tony lowered his arm, but only slightly. 

“Okay, pumpkin”, he soothed, eyes locked with the dog that was still staring at them. “Let’s, uh - let’s head home anyway, okay?” He began to back away slowly, though the dog made no move towards them, and Tony finally turned around before he began to speed walk towards the cabin. Heart pounding with undue anxiety, he asked FRIDAY to call Stephen and his watch bracelet (the updated version which matched Stephen’s) vibrated with each ring.

“Tony?”, the sorcerer answered almost immediately, his voice piqued with concern. Could he sense Tony’s anxiety through the life force, even all the way from New York (assuming he was in New York)? He’d have to ask him later.

“Uh, I need you”, Tony said, voice a little frantic with worry, his stress-scrambled brain not giving him any more elegant words to work with. “Can you come to the house?”

“Yes. I’ll be right there”, Stephen replied, without hesitation, and the call cut out. 

Tony had reached the front lawn a minute later, Morgan still hoisted unhappily on his hip, hearing the crackling of a gateway as soon as the cabin came into view. Stephen stepped out, in his full sorcerer’s garb and Levi trailing behind him as his eyes flickered around warily, meeting Tony in the middle of the snow-covered lawn. Morgan lit up when she saw him.

“Doc!”

“Miss Morgan”, Stephen greeted with a grin before looking to Tony. ”Hey, what’s the matter?” Tony automatically sidled to stand beside the sorcerer while Morgan reached out for the sorcerer, and he turned around to point in the direction of the trail.

“That”, Tony said accusingly, the large dog slinking from the forest and into the light just as Stephen saw where he was pointing. “We were on the trail and Morgan thought she saw a wolf, and then it started following us.” Stephen just raised an amused brow, taking Morgan in his arms as Tony passed her over without taking his wary gaze off the dog, which was now sniffing around the bushes by the edge of the lake.

“That’s not a wolf, Tony”, Stephen said with teasing patience. “It’s just a stray dog. Hey?” He turned to Morgan as she twisted in his arms to watch the dog after giving the sorcerer a hug around his neck. “He’s just a poor dog without a home, isn’t he?” Tony frowned as Morgan nodded sympathetically. 

“Just a poor doggy, Daddy.”

“I realize it’s not a wolf, Strange”, Tony growled, taking a subconscious step in front of the sorcerer as the dog began to pick its way through the snow towards them. He appreciated Stephen’s attempts to comfort Morgan, but that was the problem: She _wasn’t_ scared of an enormous feral dog that could have attacked her. “But it’s huge, possibly rabid, and it followed us all the way back on the trail.” Stephen squinted a little as he surveyed the dog’s appearance, bouncing Morgan on his hip comfortingly as she snuggled into Levi, the cloak wrapping around her protectively.

“No. Not rabid, I don’t think. Probably just hungry”, Stephen said, his tone becoming soothing as he noticed the panic-edged look in Tony’s eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. It’ll move on soon enough if you ignore it and don’t feed it.” Tony nodded distractedly.

“I know, I’m just worried about Morgan playing out here on her own with that thing around. Even if it’s not rabid, what if it isn’t friendly and she goes to try and pet it or something?” Tony let out a huff of air to try and release the anxiety rising in his chest, looking up to meet Stephen’s patiently calm sea-green eyes. “Sorry. I know I’m being paranoid, I just…” He paused as he looked to where Morgan was now starting to happily doze in Stephen’s arms, tired out after their walk as she snuggled against the warm cloak. “I can’t let anything happen to her.” Tony’s heart thudded soundly as it always did when Stephen’s gaze softened as he looked at him, nodding his head sympathetically.

“I understand. If it makes you feel better, I can put some barrier protection runes around the yard, at least, to keep the dog out and Morgan in. It won’t hurt either of them, but it will keep them from interacting without you knowing.” Tony gave him a grateful half grin, still watching the dog warily out of the corner of his eye. 

“That would. Make me feel better, I mean.” Stephen nodded, looking to see where Tony was still watching the dog as if it were about to turn into a massive dragon and set them all on fire. The dog had stopped a couple dozen feet away from them, lifting its head to watch them quietly with it’s one intelligent-looking brown eye.

“He reminds me of you”, Stephen said, pointing to his own right eye, indicating Tony and the dog’s shared blind eye.

“Shut up, asshole”, Tony scoffed, nudging him gently with a grin that he couldn’t keep hidden, reaching his arms out for Morgan. “Here, let me take the munchkin so you can go do your protection rune thing.” Morgan settled into her dad’s arms without waking up after Stephen passed her back over, and Tony stood, rocking her gently as he kept one eye on the sorcerer and the other…okay, he kept one eye on both Stephen and the dog. Stephen walked around the yard, making a quick motion with his hands every dozen or so feet, on a tree or other structure if possible, circling around the entire cabin before coming back to stand with Tony.

“That should do it. It will only affect her and the dog, and she’ll be able to go through it when you’re with her”, Stephen explained, and Tony felt a little bit of the tension dissolve from his chest. He stepped closer to Stephen, nudging him gently as Morgan continued to sleep, cheek resting on her dad’s shoulder as her little arms were wrapped around his neck. Tony’s anxiety began to trickle away as the sorcerer’s half of the life force pushed involuntary warmth and comfort into his chest, and he was helpless against that soothing tide. 

“Thank you, Steph. I know it’s a little overkill, but I appreciate it.” Stephen just shook his head, nudging him back with a gentle smile.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do”, Tony grinned up at him. “You ready for tomorrow? Family road trip, eh? Gonna let me show you and the boys around all my old haunts?” Stephen raised an apprehensive brow in response.

“Yes, I’m sure May wants you to show her son the shitty bar you used to hang out in when you weren’t living in the lab”, he drawled sarcastically. “I think I’ll pass.” Tony watched as a sliver of regret passed over his face. “If you’re fine with the whole dog situation, I better get going. I left Wong in the middle of dealing with a bunch of Kirrtoki in another dimension.” Tony grimaced.

“Do I want to know what that is?”

“No”, Stephen grinned tiredly, hesitation flicking over his face before Tony pursed his lips, wishing he had a free arm to hold him with, to cup his cheek gently, but Morgan was fast asleep with no intention of moving. Stephen dipped down to meet his lips, pressing into his mouth almost gratefully with a low hum, and Tony felt his skin prickle with pleasure as Stephen pushed his tongue against his lips fleetingly before pulling back. Tony looked up at him with a sleepy smile, drowning in heady affection like some sort of love-sick teenager. How did this man make him feel so young, like he wasn’t creeping up on fifty four? Stephen returned the smile, green-blue eyes practically sparkling with all the love they held, before bending his head a little to brush Morgan’s hair away from her cheek with trembling fingers, and plant a kiss there. Tony’s heart flipped with protective love, watching the sorcerer treating his daughter so tenderly, like he held her in a sort of precious reverence, as if she were a valuable gem to be treasured and guarded. Stephen stepped back reluctantly, eyes flickering over them both almost longingly before pulling his sling ring on and opening a gateway.

“See you tomorrow, then”, he muttered, the tension and lack of sleep evident in the lines of his body, and Tony tilted his head sympathetically. 

“You sure you’re up for any early morning tomorrow, Doc? No offence, but you look like you could sleep for a week.” Stephen took the teasing in stride, though his tired smile did nothing to disprove Tony’s theory. 

“I’m sure. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Tony nodded, not about to hypocritically argue that the sorcerer looked dead on his feet. 

“Seven o’clock, then. Bring ear plugs if you plan to nap in the car.” Stephen nodded with an amused grin, still tired, but his eyes were warm with a loving light that Tony had been seeing for far too long without realizing what it meant.

“See you then, darling.” 

Stephen stepped through the gateway quickly and it snapped shut behind him, leaving Tony blinking, heart thrumming as he watched the gold sparks dissolving in the air. Stephen hadn’t seemed the kind for pet names, and Tony had been quick to accept that. He had enough nicknames and teasing, affectionate pet names queued up to last a lifetime for them both. But then here was Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, all serious, stoic hard edges and practicality, dropping a soft, molasses-coated ‘darling’ like he’d been doing it for years. 

Tony was still reeling, cheeks warm and flushed, until the huge dog caught his attention again. It was pacing the outer edge of the rune-created boundary, evidently having discovered the force of the spell keeping it out. Tony met its eyes, the brown and blue ones which matched his own, and saw some sort of deep loneliness that he had felt stewing in his own chest for years. He shook his head to clear such thoughts from it. He was projecting.

This was a stray dog, lost and untrusting. They were nothing alike. 

*****

Six o’clock the next morning found Tony already awake, lying on his back as he stared at the ceiling, politely asking FRIDAY to turn the alarm off. He had been awake for almost an hour already, thoughts running through his head on repeat. Everything was changing. First the divorce, then getting together with Stephen which was still in the confusing beginning stages of figuring things out, and now here Peter was visiting the college he’d likely be leaving for in less than six months. It was a lot of change happening very quickly and it made Tony feel very old, especially the part with Peter going off to school. The teen wasn’t the only one who had gotten used to their routine of hanging out at the cabin and comforting each other when they needed it, which was often, though slightly less so these days. 

But change is a part of life and Tony mulled over this, flexing the fingers of his cybernetic arm with a small smirk. It feel good to have it back in working order and, despite the turmoil of emotion in his chest, it felt good to simply be alive right now. He knew this was largely in part because of Stephen, still coursing through the aftershocks of their first kiss, the fact that they could be open with each other now, though they were still figuring out how to do that. Nevertheless, Tony was grateful to the sorcerer and his healing presence for just being able to wake up in the morning without the crushing, overwhelming pain in his chest that he had gotten far too accustomed to in the past year. He reached up to trace a finger over his miniature Eye of Agomotto pendant with a small smile before pulling himself out of bed, shivering in the cool air of his bedroom. 

Stephen had been able to spend most nights of the past week over at the cabin, but he had been needed in Kamar Taj into what would have been the wee hours of the morning due to the time difference, so they decided that one night apart wouldn’t kill them. Tony hadn’t been surprised when they quickly became so dependent on each other, but it wasn’t hard to think about the old desperate loneliness and shudder, like a ghost of a nightmare. Still, Tony was looking forward to when they wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping in separate beds, something certain in his chest telling him that that day would come soon enough. 

*****

Stephen had thought the rush of relief he felt every time he stepped through a gateway and onto the lawn in front of the Stark cabin would be subdued now that he was able to see Tony almost every day, but the recent close proximity had done nothing to damper the surge of warmth he felt in his chest as he walked up the front steps to the porch. The front door opened before he was even able to consider knocking on it, though a slightly smaller Stark came out to greet him than the one he had been expecting. Stephen chuckled affectionately, a rumble deep in his chest as he stooped to meet Morgan’s flying hug into his arms.

“Doc!”, she squeaked, arms around his neck as she snuggled against his sweater. 

“Someone has a lot of energy for so early in the morning”, Stephen smiled to her, checking his watch to see that it was only 6:43 am. 

“She’s been up since six!”, Tony called from the kitchen in an exasperated tone. Stephen grinned again, telling Morgan to hold her arms tight around his neck to help his hands in picking her up, straightening up as she clung to him in koala-like fashion. Tony grinned at them as Stephen came into the kitchen, shaking his head slightly. 

“Oh, sure, act all sweet and innocent as soon as he gets here, you little monkey”, Tony scoffed gently, meeting Stephen’s eyes. “Hey, you”, he purred as he walked over to them with travel mug of coffee in hand, drowning the sorcerer’s chest in blissful warmth. Stephen was practically swimming in the heady feeling of their combined life force as he leaned down a little to meet Tony’s pursed lips, the man’s cybernetic hand cupping his cheek gently. Their kiss elicited a jealous squeak from Morgan as she leaned forward to receive her own cheek kiss from her dad, sandwiched between them for a moment as Stephen pressed his lips to her other cheek. Never before had he been so overwhelmingly content and full of love, his heart practically bursting as Morgan giggled in his arms.

“It tickles!”, she complained as Stephen’s goatee and her dad’s stubble tickled her cheeks, hiding her face in the sorcerer’s sweater again as she laughed gleefully. 

“I’ll show you tickles”, Tony threatened teasingly, grabbing her from Stephen to turn her on her back in his arms and blow raspberries on her tummy, causing her to shriek and squirm in joy. Stephen could only smile at her joy, letting Tony take her as he took the man’s loosely-held travel mug. It filled every inch of his being with indescribable joy to see Tony happy and pain-free, playing with his daughter without worry plaguing his body and mind. 

“Daddy, no!”, she pleaded, giggling breathlessly as Tony righted her in his arms and kissed her cheek. It was then that Stephen began to truly believe that he didn’t need to run scared anymore. Maybe he could actually become a part of this family without fear of sudden rejection. Maybe this was good and safe and something that would stay. After seeing millions of possibilities where it had worked out, Stephen couldn’t help but think that his days of chasing after Tony were over, his heart in his hands, crushed every time he fell. Lost in his own mind, it took Stephen a second to realize that Tony had moved to the door and was calling him. 

“Doc? Strange? Earth to Stephen!” Tony grinned as Stephen turned to look at him guiltily, brows raised sympathetically. “You okay?” Stephen nodded with a reassuring smile, grabbing the snack bag Tony had prepared from the kitchen counter.

“Always”, he assured, kissing both Tony’s and Morgan’s foreheads before they headed out the door.

Stephen opened a gateway to Queens, waiting outside on the sidewalk as Tony dropped Morgan off at her mom’s townhouse, turning his back to better avoid the fierce glances Pepper was throwing him over Tony’s shoulder. The insecurity must have been showing in his eyes when the door closed and Tony came bounding back down the steps, brow furrowed a little as he met Stephen’s face and reached for his hand softly. 

“Don’t worry about her”, Tony muttered quietly, brown and blue eyes looking steadily up into Stephen’s, sympathy and guilt clear on his face. Stephen wanted to feel his lips so badly, the reassurance of his warm mouth, but settled for the gentle squeeze of his hand around the sorcerer’s own trembling fingers, before Stephen let go and opened another gateway which opened a few blocks away. 

Stephen had a moment to revel in the difference of walking through gateways with Tony by his side, grounded by his warm, steady presence instead of feeling like a lone pine tree, buffeted by cold wind on the precipice of a cliff. The gateway dissolved like burning star dust as they stepped out onto the cold grey pavement in front of the Parker (and Hogan) apartment, immediately met by Peter’s bright but sleepy grin as he pushed off from the side of May’s car which he had been leaning against. 

“Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Pete. You ready for a road trip with a bunch of old people?”, Tony asked, sashaying up to his kid with a silly grin, arms open, and pulling the boy into a messy hug, swaying side to side a few times before letting go. “I hope you’re bringing headphones, ‘cause the Doc snores”, he added, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Stephen with an exaggerated look.

“I think we all know that, out of the two of you, you are definitely the snorer”, Peter said with a quirked brow, elbowing Tony gently as he scoffed. “Right, Doc?”, he added, stepping forward with a shy smile to give Stephen a polite hug in greeting, but it was enough to make the sorcerer’s heart drop into his boots. He wrapped his arms around the boy gently, the shock apparently evident on his face as Tony gave him a grin that was a mix of teasing and affection. 

“Oh, yes, definitely”, Stephen assured, once he was able to speak again, giving Tony a quick wink as Peter pulled back. Tony’s cheeks became tinted with a lovely shade of pink as he gave Stephen a lop-sided smirk which sent the sorcerer’s heart to pounding, reminding him of the first time they had shared such an exchange. 

“I feel ganged up on already. Not fair”, Tony pouted, arms crossed. “I have to survive six hours in the car with you two?”

“You’ll live”, Peter assured with an eye roll, looking over his shoulder as they heard the apartment door open, Happy trailing May out the door as he tried to convince her to let him carry her bags to the car. 

“Morning, you two”, May smiled brightly to Stephen and Tony, still ignoring Happy’s desperate attempts to fulfill his gentlemanly tendencies. She tossed the day bag in the back seat, purse slung over her shoulder as she gave Happy a pointed look and a pat on the cheek before turning back to the other men. “We really appreciate you guys coming. I think it’ll be fun, we can make a day of it.” Tony just grinned awkwardly and nodded, embarrassed by the acknowledgment, giving Peter a gently noogie at the teen’s own embarrassed mumbles directed at his aunt.

“No problem, May”, Stephen said with a half-smile. “Though the offer to open a gateway there still stands. It’s really not a problem.”

“No”, May said decisively, shaking her head. “Thanks for the offer, but Peter needs to realize exactly how far away he’s planning on living from me”, she teased, earning a guilty, puppy-eyed look from her nephew. “He can’t expect to always have you as his personal, instant taxi service.” May laughed lightly as Stephen dipped his head in slight embarrassment. “Besides, it’s bad enough he bought us a new car”, she said, pointing an accusing finger to Tony, who ducked away sheepishly, pretending to hide behind Peter. “I don’t need you offering to cart us around too.”

“But this is fine, right, May?”, Peter insisted desperately. “Kinda like a family road trip or something?” Stephen’s heart melted at the teen’s question and May’s responding nod. 

“Minus one”, she agreed, turning to Happy with a sweet smile. “Don’t have too much fun at work.”

“Don’t let him drive”, Happy growled, pointing at Tony who flipped him the bird with a metallic finger. “He drives like a maniac.” 

“Hey, I’ve gotten better!”, Tony insisted. “I barely even speed anymore!”

“Enough, you two”, May scolded, kissing Happy quickly before turning to the car. “Everyone in!”

“I call shotgun!”, Tony yelled, scrambling around the car in a mad dash to grab the handle before Peter could. Surprisingly, he got there before the teen did, though likely only because Peter didn’t want to use his enhanced speed and agility out in the open. 

“Whatever”, Peter relented with an eye roll, climbing in the back seat with Stephen, amongst the multiple bags of snacks and blankets for the ride. And if Tony was embarrassed to be seen climbing into a 2017 Hyundai Elantra, then he didn’t show it, though Stephen had heard the many obscenities used to describe their previous vehicle before Tony insisted on buying them an upgrade. “No AC/DC, though”, Peter added. “I’d like to keep my ear drums, if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, yes, definitely not”, May agreed, giving Tony a teasing smile as they pulled away from the curb, heading north east towards Massachusetts. 

“Three against one, I feel severely outnumbered”, Tony muttered, but turned on the local radio station, a barely audible hum of current pop songs, white noise mixing in with the light thrum of the car’s engine. Traffic began to build up as the early hour wore on and the sun began to rise over the buildings, glinting and tinged in warm light in the grey dawn. They got the the edge of the city and Stephen relaxed now that they were out of the din of busy traffic, his heart settling in his chest like a pounding metronome. He had been determined to come on this trip, to push past his car-related trauma, relieved to find that his theory about being less stressed in the back seat was true, leaning his head back against the head rest as he looked out the window. Tony was glancing back every ten minutes or so, checking on him to make sure his anxiety wasn’t acting up, and Stephen was able to give him a small, reassuring grin each time. The sorcerer was building up a thorny wall of defensive thoughts to keep memories of his crash out of his head, just beginning to feel his eyes drift shut when he felt a gentle nudge on his arm. He looked over to see Peter give him a shy smile, proffering a pillow he had pulled from one of the bags.

“I brought two if you want one. Dad said you were working late last night”, Peter explained gently, brow furrowed slightly in empathy. “I was gonna try to nap too, since I was up late finishing that stupid paper.” Stephen’s heart faltered, memories of thousands of road trips from millions of lives flashing through his mind in a split second, frozen, before forcing his mind past them and giving the teen a grateful grin as he took the pillow with shaking fingers. 

“That biochem paper you were stressing over last week?”, Stephen clarified.

“Yeah”, Peter admitted guiltily. “I got so caught up studying, I almost forgot about it. I think it turned out okay.”

“I’m sure you’ll do extremely well on it”, Stephen soothed, chest warming as Peter gave him a grateful grin.

“Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

They all soon settled into the half-quiet the low hum the radio offered, May and Tony occasionally speaking in hushed tones, as the rising sun tinged the sky in clear orange and glittered gold across the landscape. The highway wasn’t too busy in the early morning hour, and they managed to keep good time as the continued to head north-east to MIT. Stephen glanced over at Peter to find the teen scrolling through his phone, eyelids drooping as he leaned over to the side, head on his pillow and wedged against the door. Content that Peter wouldn’t be missing his company, Stephen leaned his head against the pillow pressed to the window and let his eyes drop shut gratefully, lulled to sleep by the soothing motion of the car and the low hum of Tony’s voice intermixing with the warm melody of May’s. 

“Rise and shine, sleepyheads!”

Stephen blinked awake at Tony’s abrupt call, looking over to meet Peter’s face with matching disorientated alarm. They looked up to the passenger seat to see Tony grinning at them widely, a familiar teasing twinkle in his eye. 

“You suck”, Peter mumbled half-heartedly, shoving his face back into his pillow. 

“Pit stop time”, May informed them in a less jarring tone as they pulled into a Hartford gas station, the halfway point of their journey. “I’ll pump gas, you three handle drinks if you want anything, and I think they have a bathroom to use.” From the back seat rang a chorus of sleepy, grumbled agreement.

Still half-asleep, Stephen stepped out of the car once they had parked beside a pump, the cold wind buffeting him as he blinked sleepily. Tony was at his side, warm and assuring before he could even blink twice, smiling up at him impishly.

“You have a good snooze, babe?”, he asked, wrapping his good arm around Stephen’s lower back as they walked side by side to the gas station doors. Stephen could only mumble in groggyagreement. Peter jogged to catch up to them, sliding Tony’s other arm around him for a quick recharge of contact before opening the door for them. To say the gas station attendants were shocked to see Iron Man and Doctor Strange walk into their store at 8:39 am on a Wednesday (Peter’s secret identity was safe, even after the Battle for Earth), would have been an understatement, pretending to not stare at the two men (trailed by some random teenager) as they perused the chip aisle.

After a bathroom break and stocking up on drinks (and one bag of chips Tony managed to smuggle into the car under his sweatshirt, avoiding May’s scrutinizing health nut gaze), they were back on the road. Peter had gotten back at Tony for earlier that morning as he called shotgun the second they stepped out of the gas station, sticking his tongue out at his dad as Tony slid into the back seat with Stephen. 

“You sure I can’t drive, May?”, Tony asked sweetly, leaning forward to steal a handful of Doritos from Peter in the passenger seat. “I know Happy said not to let me, but since when is he the boss of you?”

“Aha, that’s a trap, and we both know it. How dumb do you think I am?”, May laughed as she sipped the coffee they had gotten her. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Tony pouted innocently, leaning back against the seat to give Stephen a knowing look that sent the sorcerer’s heart thrumming. “Darling”, he purred gently, getting Stephen back for his departure from the cabin the day before, and he had to fight the heat rising in his cheeks as he ducked his head, embarrassed by the slip up. 

Stephen was in his original spot behind the driver’s seat, while Tony elected to sit in the middle seat, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Peter while they passed the bag of Doritos back and forth. Stephen had let his mind wander, drifting between looking out the window and tuning into the lively conversation about the different types of chemistry and why each one sucked, but was useful. It was about the time that they had gotten to organic chemistry when Stephen felt a touch on his leg, looking down to find that Tony was lightly brushing his fingertips up and down the sorcerer’s thigh. Stephen looked over at him with a quirked brow, but Tony continued to ignore him, carrying on his engaged conversation with Peter about isotopes. His good hand soon came to rest, the palm warm and steady on the sorcerer’s mid-thigh and Stephen had to swallow hard as he tried desperately to focus on literally anything else. He wasn’t sure what Tony’s goal was, if only to fluster him, because he was certainly achieving that. He looked out the window again to ignore the man’s touch as best he could, but Tony seemed to notice this and slid his hand up Stephen’s thigh, drawing his attention back to him fully, cheeks flushed heavily. 

“You alright, Stephen?”, May asked him, her eyes concerned as she looked at him in the rearview mirror. Stephen assumed Tony had discreetly told her about his car-related trauma, a fact that he supposed he was grateful for now as a cover-up while he tried to control his blush.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Thanks”, Stephen assured, stumbling as Tony gave his leg a squeeze, casually sliding his hand towards his inner thigh as he asked Peter about his upcoming exam schedule. Stephen was having a hard time keeping his mind focused on anything but Tony’s hand planted dangerously close to his crotch, heart pounding as blood began to flow where it definitely shouldn’t right now, almost sighing in relief when Tony finally pulled his hand away to grab the proffered water bottle from Peter.

“Thirsty, Doc?”, Tony asked innocently as he held the water bottle out, taking a sip when Stephen shook his head, maintaining eye contact with the sorcerer as he drank. Cheeks warm, Stephen relaxed in his seat, infiltrating into the conversation and managing to survive the rest of the drive without any embarrassing mishaps, though only because Tony didn’t try anything again. 

About an hour later, the four of them were piling out of the car in one of the many parking lots near the front buildings at MIT, all a little achy and buzzing with excitement, especially Peter. 

“What do you say, Pete?”, Tony grinned, gripping the teen’s shoulders as he sidled up beside him. “Ready to check out your stomping grounds for the next four years or so? You could always go for your doctorate, too. Hey? Doctor Parker. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Oh, leave him alone with all of that”, May scolded gently, looking in her purse for the map and schedule she had printed beforehand. “Today is just about looking around and getting a feel for things. We can make the big, life-changing decisions later, okay?” She pulled Tony off of Peter gently, linking arms with him as they both held an end of the map and tried to figure out where the open house tours started. Stephen walked beside Peter as they fell in behind Tony and his aunt, letting them take the lead, though the sorcerer couldn’t help but notice the uncertain look on the teen’s face.

“May I offer my counsel?”, Stephen rumbled gently with a soft grin at the boy. Peter looked up at him immediately and gave a half smile back, playing with his hoodie strings distractedly.

“I don’t know. Tony seems to think I’ll be able to go here like he did and ‘blow everyone’s socks off’, but I’m not so sure. I mean, I’m struggling to balance high school right now”, he explained desperately, keeping his voice low so Tony wouldn’t overhear. “How does he think I could get my doctorate?” Stephen tilted his head thoughtfully as they walked, smirking slightly at May and Tony arguing about directions before he looked over at Peter again.

“You know, Tony believes in you more than he’s ever believed in anyone”, Stephen started slowly, also keeping his voice low. “And that’s because he sees the good in you. He sees your potential. And despite that pressure, just know that, whatever you do, he’ll always be proud of you. Of that I am completely certain.” He was relieved to see Peter smiling a little, looking down as he scuffed the toes of his converse on the pavement as they walked.

“Uh, thanks, Doc. That’s…yeah. That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s the truth”, Stephen assured. “And just between you and me, if I can get a PhD, anyone can. So, if that’s what you want to do, then I know you could achieve that goal, or any other.” 

Peter seemed mildly surprised from this praise coming directly from the sorcerer, though he smiled gratefully as Stephen looked ahead, uncomfortable. He couldn’t count the amount of times Peter had come to him for advice, or needed encouragement during those 14 million possibilities. Millions of lifetimes of late night talks, panic attacks and breakdowns, college applications and graduations, flashed through Stephen’s mind and he had to bite down hard on the present in order to come back to it. They caught up with May and Tony as he did so, who had finally figured out where the open house tours were starting. 

Once they actually got to one of the tours, Tony managed to subtly wrestle control of the situation away from May by slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders and waltzing to the front of the tour group as everyone parted for them, much to Peter’s embarrassment. Tony also wasn’t afraid to correct the tour guide, though it was mostly just playful mutterings to Peter, much to the teen’s relief. May was happy to hang back with Stephen and let Tony handle telling the teen about all of the tricks of the trade concerning the MIT engineering buildings, but was adamant in listening to the tour guide when it came to the residence buildings. Stephen was content to hang out in the background, not overbearing, but he knew Peter would come to him if he needed a moment away from Tony’s showiness and May’s hovering. And he did, once the tour was over and May and Tony had gone to the washroom and to grab a bottle of water respectively, the teen coming to stand beside the sorcerer with an overwhelmed sigh.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”, Stephen emphasized, chancing a soft hand on his shoulder which Peter leaned into before slumping against the brick wall Stephen was leaning against.

“That’s…an understatement”, Peter chuckled weakly. “I don’t think I retained anything the tour guide said.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, honestly. Your aunt was taking enough notes on her phone to write an entire course on that tour, so I think you’ll be alright. Just try to enjoy the experience of being here, get a feel for things.” Peter nodded in agreement, hand suddenly snapping up to catch a water bottle before it hit him in the face.

“Think fast, Underoos!”, Tony grinned as he walked up to them, armed with three more water bottles as he earned an eye roll from the teen.

“A little slow on the warning there, Pops.”

“That’s what your Peter tingle is for. He shouldn’t have to warn you”, May teased gently as she walked up to them also, consulting what looked like an even larger map than before. 

“Please, don’t call it that, May”, Peter begged, earning a sympathetic pat on the back from Stephen as the sorcerer stepped forward to receive his bottle of water from Tony, about to speak when a vaguely familiar voice called over to them.

“Hey, I thought I smelled something!”

The group spun around to see Harley stalking towards them across the grass of the courtyard, hands in the front pouch of a hoodie that was probably three sizes too big for him, exuding casual rakishness like some sort of self-satisfied cat. Stephen knew better than to waste his energy on pleasantries with Harley, but May and Peter smiled politely and greeted him. The twenty one-year-old barely lifted a brow in greeting, all his attention focused on Tony.

“I think it’s the smell following you around, kid”, Tony said as he pulled Harley into a one-armed hug, ruffing his hair with the other hand. “God, you need a haircut, you look like some sort of flea-bitten street mutt.” Harley growled playfully to go along with Tony’s comparison as he wrested out of the man’s loose embrace, swatting at his hand. 

“Piss off”, the scruffy youngster quipped back, though the light in his eyes was one of love and not malice. “I get to pick what my hair looks like, since you didn’t even let me pick my own goddamn college. Made me go to your old school like I’m Tony Jr or something.” 

Stephen didn’t fail to notice how uncomfortable this comparison made Peter look, giving the teen’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, maybe to also quell some of his own anxiety. Harley had been in very few of the possibilities he had viewed, not because of his lack of importance in Tony’s life, but more due to the fact that Stephen had begun to skip forward through to the battle scenes when he got past the first three million or so. This meant he had very few vivid memories of having Harley as part of his family with Tony, his son. There were a few realities he had seen, though, especially of when Harley was younger and less hardened by the world, all bright blue eyes and trusting enthusiasm, and Stephen held these near and dear to his heart. But Harley didn’t know that, didn’t know Stephen, so the distance between them remained. Theses type of memories from the 14 million were an advantage he had come accustomed to when dealing with the people in Tony’s life, so it was this and Harley’s standoffish, aloof personality which made him uncertain how to act around Tony’s eldest. 

“You’re changing the subject”, Tony scoffed, cuffing the back of Harley’s head softly, though much rougher than he would ever do with Peter. “What are people going to say, seeing my kid looking like a hobo? They’re gonna think I’m neglecting you.”

“Nah, they’ll just realize where I got my fashion sense from”, Harley grinned, laughing as he dodged Tony’s playful punch.

“Hey! I resent that”, Tony smirked, walking over to twist the cap off the water bottle Stephen had been struggling with for five minutes, too ashamed to ask for help. Harley watched the gesture with a critical eye, meeting Stephen’s face with his intense blue-eyed gaze before looking to Tony.

“So… you guys are doing it now, or what?” 

Stephen regretted taking a sip of water approximately three seconds before Harley spoke, coughing harshly as Tony gently pounded him on the back with the flat of his palm, giving the kid an affronted look.

“What? How did you know that? I didn’t even tell you anything about us yet.”

“It’s obvious”, Harley said in that infuriatingly calm way he had, pointing a finger at the red-faced sorcerer, his flushed cheeks from choking on water and embarrassment both. “He’s still looking at you like he’s about to burst into hearts like a cartoon, but not in a painful way anymore.” Harley glanced around the courtyard, like he was contemplating who he was going to mortify next, his eyes landing on Peter, who froze, cheeks dusted in an empathetic pink. “Anyway, I guess I’ll show you losers around. Not you, May. You’re not a loser.” 

“Ms Parker is fine”, May said flatly, shooting Stephen a sympathetic look as he took another sip of water to clear his throat. Harley ignored the correction, because of course he did, and the small group made the precarious decision to follow his lead, Tony pulling Peter with an arm around his shoulders to walk with him and Harley up front. May and Stephen trailed behind them, sharing knowing looks as Tony and Harley shot rapid fire quips back and forth, while Peter was dragged along by Tony’s cybernetic arm wrapped securely around his shoulders as he eyed the other boy warily. 

“So…”, May started, eyeing Stephen with a slight smirk. “When were you guys planning on telling me?” Stephen faltered for a moment before realizing what she was referring to, grimacing guiltily.

“Heh, yeah, sorry about that. We haven’t even really had the chance to have the conversation about how we’re going to tell everyone ourselves. Now, everyone’s kind of just…finding out on their own”, Stephen said, just as he noticed the mischievous glint in May’s eyes.

“I’m just teasing, Stephen. It’s not surprising, but I’m happy for you guys nonetheless.” Stephen rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he grimaced.

“For the Vishanti’s sake… Were we really that obvious?” He could see that May had a very hard time not rolling her eyes as she patted his arm placatingly.

“Oh, honey. Everyone knew except for you two.” She paused. “And Happy.”

“Oh, good. We still have one person to surprise, then”, Stephen smiled with dry enthusiasm. Silence fell between them as they both thought of the same thing. There were two people who had yet to find out about his and Tony’s new relationship, actually, one of whom would be significantly less enthused than the other. Stephen shivered a little as he thought of Pepper’s cold glares from that morning.

They changed the topic and kept up conversation while they walked, as Tony was clearly having the time of his life with his two boys, though Peter was decidedly less thrilled about Harley diverting most of the man’s attention. After Harley gave them the VIP tour, they all stopped at one of the food trucks on campus for lunch, Tony dragging them all to try a shawarma truck, something both boys had been subjected to many times. The group claimed a picnic bench in the half-snow half-grass area near one of the engineering buildings, warmed by the sun as they chatted idly, though Harley and Tony would occasionally erupt into raucous laughter from an inside joke that left everyone else perplexed. They were halfway done eating when Tony and Peter got up to get more garlic sauce for their shawarma, May following them to grab more napkins and possibly harass the cook about the credibility of their claims of using organic beef. This left Harley and Stephen in semi-awkward silence as they sat across from each other, Harley scrolling through his phone until Stephen looked up to find himself being appraised critically by those ridiculous blue eyes.

“What?”, Stephen couldn’t help but ask, his patience drawn thin by the kid’s devil-may-care attitude. Harley seemed vaguely amused that he had gotten under the sorcerer’s skin, but Stephen didn’t back down, staring right back.

“Where did you go to school?”

“Columbia”, Stephen responded shortly, watching the way the kid’s eyes flickered with something other than lackadaisical confidence, before his nose scrunched up in distaste.

“Ew. Columbia.”

“Tell us how you really feel”, Stephen snorted, feeling that familiar spark of affection as he saw a flicker of the sweet, silly little boy he had known in another life, although it was beneath about five layers of defence mechanisms.

“My sister wants to go to Columbia”, Harley explained with distaste. “I’m trying to convince her not to go, but why would she ever listen to me?”

“Hmm, that’s just the way younger sisters are. Abbey, right?”

“Yeah… Tony told you that?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, he’s mentioned her a few times to me, that’s all”, Stephen supplied as casually as he could, realizing his tiny slip-up. Stephen’s memories of Abbey from the 14 million possibilities were even fewer than those he had of Harley, but those that he did have of the girl were of pure sunshine and potential, shrouded only by the clouds of abandonment and alcoholism cast by her parents. Harley nodded, satisfied as Peter and Tony came back to the table, and May soon followed as they finished their meal. 

They finished eating a short while later, Tony insisting he had to show the boys around some of his favourite places around campus, though May resisted strongly, only distracted from their light argument when Harley’s phone rang and he stepped off to the side to take the call. This left Tony with few options to distract May from how much she didn’t want him to run off and show her nephew questionable parts of the campus, so he resorted to starting a playful wrestling match with Peter. They swatted at each other, landing blows that were comparable to that of a kitten, though the blocks and hits quickly devolved into tickling and a pink-faced Peter, giggling as he tried to squirm out of Tony’s gentle choke hold. Stephen smiled in contentment as he watched them because, although he was a little worried about Tony overdoing it with his cybernetic arm, he knew Tony was using the moment to show his other kid that he hadn’t been forgotten, despite how much of his time had been devoted to Harley since the other boy showed up unannounced. 

Tony was laughing like a little kid, eyes alight playfully as he pressed a kiss to Peter’s hair, though his face dropped as he looked up, looking past Stephen. Stephen spun around, following his gaze to see Harley standing there, phone hanging limply in his fingers, his eyes clouded over with a haunted look. Tony’s brow furrowed in concern and Peter froze when he realized something was wrong.

“Harley?”, Tony asked, stepping towards him. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Harley looked up at him, eyes empty over the flinty grief underneath.

“My mom died.”


	18. 14,000,606

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieces of 14,000,605 realities trapped in Stephen's mind were bound to slip out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this chapter is the most important one since Énouement (ch. 11) and their first kiss chapter (ch. 15), so comments on this chapter would be even more greatly appreciated than usual. <3<3<3 Love you guys so much for sticking with this fic.
> 
> Stephen and Tony being together in 88% of the realities vs. Pepperony's "12% of a moment" hehehe
> 
> Writing and editing the main scene of this chapter literally took my three whole d a y s oh my god. It also didn’t help when the boys would n o t follow my predetermined outline. They have minds of their own most of the time, I swear. And I knew this was going to be a big chapter, but holy shit. I haven’t had a chapter this big since 15. This chapter was so hard to write, technically and emotionally, but it’s a really important one and I’m happy with how it turned out.
> 
> It’s going to take a lot of time and reassurance for Stephen to realize that Tony isn’t going to leave when things get hard. Yeah, Tony has severe trust issues, but he knows Stephen isn’t going to hurt him, he almost died to save Tony’s life after all, and has barely left his side since. Tony is done with everything in his life being so hard, he just wants to be loved, and he wants Stephen to be the person to love him. Stephen’s just incredibly insecure, okay? He’s also weighed down withe the feeling of thinking he’s been taking advantage of Tony by knowing so much about him. And he’s gotten so used to the idea of Tony not wanting him, that it’s kind of ingrained at this point.
> 
> P.S. Peter is so cute, I literally cannot function.

Tennessee in early March was miserable.

The fact that a funeral was taking place did nothing to hinder the steady drizzle of rain the charcoal heavens offered, and the weather may have even been encouraged by the proceedings.The late winter day offered the cold rain which pelted into the still existing snowbanks, pockmarking the dirty white surface with the downpour as the meager scattering of attendees, mostly casual acquaintances of the departed, had huddled like a group of black vultures on a tree branch, umbrellas aloft in the hazy mist the rain kicked up. Everyone had dispersed as soon as the priest had said his piece, a few sending Harley sympathetic glances, but all were too tentative to approach the glowering teen. Harley stood frozen in place, hands rammed in the pockets of his dress pants, stormy blue eyes glaring at the rain-streaked casket settled in its finally resting place. 

Tony stood silently as he had throughout the entire service, holding over them both the large black umbrella that Stephen had insisted he take that morning. Tony swore the sorcerer could read the weather better than anyone, whether it was with magic or not. He politely ignored the discreet stares he received, intent to focus solely on Harley in case he needed him. So far, the twenty one-year-old hadn’t said a single word, a husk of a boy replaced with confused grief and resentment, barely seeming to register any of the words of sympathy sent in his direction. 

Tony nodded in acknowledgment as Harley’s aunt, Mary or Maggie something or other, silently gestured that she and Abbey were going to sit in the car out of the rain. Tony and Harley were left alone with the sound of rain thrumming on the big black umbrella, staring at the headstone glistening in the downpour. His own chest twisted in an uncomfortable knot of empathetic grief, Tony was content to stand as long and as silently as Harley needed. He knew what it was to lose a parent that you had hated while they were alive and making your life a living hell, then be expected to mourn them normally when you were still too bloody young to know how to process their death properly. Tony had to hold back a quiet sigh. It had taken him about fifteen therapy sessions to even scratch the surface of what his father’s death had done to him, the bewildering turmoil of grief, resentment, hate, and frustration driving him to tears even decades later.

He didn’t say any of this to Harley, though. The kid didn’t need to hear that Tony knew how he felt. He’d lash out. Tony knew because he’d done it, yelling at some well-meaning relative at his parent’s funeral because people kept telling him they understood, they understood what he was going through. Tony remembered being a scared, angry, grieving kid and he knew his silent presence was all he could offer Harley right now.

The wind picked up, buffeting a fine spray of raindrops at their backs and Tony resisted the urge to offer Harley his coat, instead adjusting the front of his suit jacket for the millionth time since he’d put it on that morning. Picking out a suit for the funeral a week beforehand, he’d been horrified to realize that none of his old suits fit. After seven years of not even looking at any of his suits (save for his and Pepper’s wedding, but that had been a new tux), Tony was left staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror in his bedroom, mortified as he found that he couldn’t even properly button the jacket anymore. It wasn’t a matter of muscle gain, that was for sure, as working out was still uncomfortable most days and he wasn’t about to push his cybernetic arm so soon after surgery. Still, glaring at the decisive swell of his midsection under his jacket, Tony had been too embarrassed to let even Stephen know about his findings as he took a discreet trip to a tailor for some minor adjustments on his cheapest black suit. He’d lose the weight quickly, he told himself, and he wasn’t too keen to go messing with one of his favourite Armani suits for the purpose of one funeral and a couple extra pounds, not like he hadn’t needed to get the right sleeve removed to accommodate his cybernetic arm anyway. Unfortunately, based on his own DIY measurements, the suit wasn’t let out nearly enough, particularly around the waist, possibly to do with wishful thinking on Tony’s part when he was writing down the numbers. So, Tony had been subjected to the mortifying experience of not being able to close his jacket without the front straining against the button somewhat dangerously, only distracted by the task of offering silent comfort to Harley. Thank goodness for rain coats.

They were both hit with another spattering of rain as the wind changed direction and this time, Tony did take his coat off and carefully wrapped it around Harley’s shoulders, balancing the umbrella in the crook of his elbow precariously. The movement and slight contact seemed to jolt the scowling youth out of his own mind as he spoke, still without tearing his cold gaze away from his own surname carved in the headstone. 

“Yeah. Alcohol poisoning. She probably deserved it.” His words sent an icy shiver down Tony’s back, though it might have just been the wind.

“Come on, Harley…” The boy’s eyes finally snapped away from the headstone to meet Tony’s face.

“No. _You_ come on, she-.” Harley’s throat caught on his words, the heated anger in his chest evident in the way his hands were shaking. “She…abused and neglected me and Abbey… I’m not gonna start feeling sorry for her just because she’s dead.” Tony saw the raging confusion and hurt in the boy’s eyes and his heart crumbled a little. In that moment, Tony hated that woman, wished he could have given her a piece of his mind when she was still alive, and he knew Harley was probably thinking the same thing. Tony placed a gentle cybernetic hand on the boy’s shoulder, opening his other arm a bit, offering to accept his grief if only he would share it with him. As expected, Harley shrugged away from his touch almost viciously.

“No, I don’t need a fucking hug, Tony”, he spat, venom in his voice that didn’t reach the dull hardness of his eyes. His gaze lingered on the headstone again. “That’s not gonna fucking fix anything.”

“I know”, Tony said levelly, his voice warm and careful. “Just come here.” This time Harley let him pull him against his chest, the boy’s chin hooked over his shoulder as he held him securely. Tony sighed inwardly as the tightness in the arms of his suit jacket didn’t allow him to hug the boy properly, but let Harley wrap his arms around him, still consistently thrown off by how tall his kid was now, how broad his shoulders were. This wasn’t the fiery eleven-year-old he had first met, a pure bundle of energy, but a young man who felt lost and alone and this thought made tears prickle in Tony’s good eye. Harley had a vice-like grip around his ribcage, silent and still, but Tony could actually feel the anger radiating through him, could feel the intensity of his fingertips pressing into his back, trying to control the shaking hate building up inside his chest. 

The kid hadn’t cried yet. He hadn’t cried and Tony was just waiting for him to break, but it hadn’t happened yet. Right now he was just pissed, pissed off beyond believe at the nerve of his mom to die before he had the chance to tell her to go to hell. Pissed at the notion that he should feel bad for the mother he had hated for the past eight years, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Tony wasn’t sure how long they stood there, Harley clinging to him like the kid might break and float away if he released his hold on his one anchor to reality, but the rain had stopped by the time they walked back to the cemetery parking lot.

After Harley had a quick screaming match with his Aunt Maggie about who Abbey would be staying with, it was unanimously decided that Abbey would stay with her for the foreseeable future. Tony stood back, heart breaking as he watched Abbey beg her brother to come with them too. Pretending not to listen in on their very loud conversation, he texted Stephen quickly to give him a heads up that they were ready for a gateway home. Harley stubbornly refused both his sister and aunt’s pleads to come back to Rosehill, glaring venom at his aunt before hugging Abbey quickly, promising her that he’d come back for her, promising she wouldn’t have to live with ‘this witch’ once he was done school. Visibly resisting the urge to flip the bird over his shoulder, Harley strode back across the rain-soaked gravel towards Tony just as a sparking gateway opened up beside him.

Harley stepped through the gateway unperturbed, without any acknowledgement for the sorcerer on the other side as Tony stepped through as well after shooting Abbey a sympathetic look. Stephen looked to Tony with a raised brow as he closed the gateway and they watched Harley stalk up the front steps of the porch, the screen door slamming shut behind him as he stormed into the cabin. 

Stephen met Tony with a sympathetic grimace. “It went well, I take it?”

Tony resisted the urge to snort in amusement as he reached up to plant a kiss on the sorcerer’s cheek. “It was a funeral, Strange, not a bar mitzvah. But, yeah, it went as well as a funeral can, I guess.” Tony’s chest filled with squirming apprehension and a broken heart as he could still feel the divots of Harley’s desperately gripping fingers on his back, worried for how this traumatic event would affect the boy for the rest of his life. He wondered if he had handled it well enough, if he should have been more supportive, more comforting. Stephen seemed to notice his inner turmoil and automatically reached out to gently pull Tony in against his chest, his chin resting softly on top of Tony’s head.

“Talk to me, Anthony.” Tony grumbled, but let himself relax in the sorcerer’s embrace, not realizing the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders until Stephen soothed it out of him.

“Don’t call me Anthony. You’re not my mother.” He sighed, pressing his forehead against the soft sweater Stephen was wearing, breathing in his almost earthy scent of tea leaves and incense. The soothing lull of the two halves of their life force being so close together could have rocked him to sleep standing up, if not for the tight anxiety in his chest.“I’m just worried about the kid. Losing my parents at that age fucked me up. I don’t…I don’t want him to turn out like me.” He could practically feel Stephen’s frown as the sorcerer held him tighter, a definitive squeeze around his shoulders that was meant as a chiding plead.

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s true, Steph. It’s…losing someone you love is usually simple; you’re supposed to feel sad, you get to just mourn them in peace. But losing someone you love and hate? That’s just a cluster fuck of emotions.” Tony let out a shuddering sigh, even more tension dissolving from his body as Stephen rubbed his back gently, and he didn’t feel so self conscious about his undersized suit anymore, arms wrapped around the sorcerer’s waist. He buried his face in the warm divot of Stephen’s shoulder, voice muffled when he spoke. “I don’t know how to be there for him.”

“You do”, Stephen responded gently, without hesitation, his voice that deep, soothing rumble that always calmed Tony’s nerves. “You know what to do, especially with him. It’s just second nature for you. Problems usually arise when you start overthinking it.”

“Man, do you have an instruction manual for me, or what? ‘Cause I’d like a copy.” Tony relished in the feeling of the rumbled chuckle in Stephen’s chest against his own, his heart lifting a little like it did whenever he could get the sorcerer to laugh.

“Hmmm, it wouldn’t do any good. Only wizards can read it”, Stephen teased as Tony pulled back to look in those ridiculous green-blue eyes, glittering with amusement as he let Tony go from his strong, but shaking grip. 

“Ha, I guess I’ll just have to become a wizard, then.” 

Stephen chuckled and Tony’s heart warmed at the sound, trying desperately to brush past the feeling of unworthiness that surged in his chest, telling himself that he was allowed to feel safe in Stephen’s presence and in his arms as he did. A rush of trust and affection overwhelming him as he finally unbuttoned his suit jacket, and if Stephen had noticed Tony’s ill-fitting suit, he hadn’t made any indication, leaving Tony extremely grateful, nudging the sorcerer’s side gently as they trailed Harley into the house

*****

The funeral had been on a Friday and it was the following Monday morning when Tony decided to bring up the elephant in the room. Or rather, the young adult still holed up in the guest room, brooding and lost. Tony didn’t blame him. They gave him space, kept noise on the main level of the house to a minimum, and the trays of food Tony placed outside the guest bedroom door reappeared empty when he went up to check several hours later, so they knew he was still alive, at least. Harley had convinced Tony it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he missed his Monday morning lecture, so the kid was still sleeping when Tony dropped a tray of scrambled eggs outside his door. Sighing in frustration, Tony traipsed back down the stairs to meet Stephen in the kitchen where the sorcerer was perusing his latest novel while sipping at his tea. 

“The creature has yet to stir from his lair”, Tony announced as he walked to the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice. Stephen quirked a brow over his reading glasses, looking up from his book with a contemplative hum at the worried edge to Tony’s tone.

“He just needs time. And he’s a teenager, this is what they do. Peter hibernates in his room on the regular.” Tony shrugged, relenting a little while he gave up some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“I know”, he sighed. “Not that it’s healthy when either of them do it, but you’re right.” Tony sipped at the orange juice before downing the rest of his glass, ghosts of anxious alcohol-soaked memories flitting through his mind. He was worried about Harley, worried about how this was going to affect him, worried about the mistake he might be making by not facing the issue head on. 

“I just don’t want to look back on this and wish I had handled it differently”, Tony admitted with a grimace, meeting the sorcerer’s eyes almost desperately. 

** _Help me. Help me not fuck this up. I can’t fail him. _ ** ****

Stephen titled his head sympathetically before steepling his hands in front of his mouth like he did when he was analyzing a situation, or about to offer his opinion or advice. The corner of Tony’s mouth quirked a little as he found himself recognizing the other man’s little tells and idiosyncrasies like this, settling into the familiarity of each other slowly but surely. 

“As I see it…”, Stephen started, pressing his peaked fingers against his lips. “You either keep going as you are, leave him to himself and give him time to sort out some of his feelings on his own, which is what I suggest. Or…”, he paused for emphasis, pointing both folded hands towards Tony. “You can go up there and try to comfort him, probably not what he wants honestly, but you know him better than I do.” Stephen shrugged. “From that you risk him shutting down even more or possibly lashing out at you. I suggest letting him come to you.” With this, Stephen sat back in his chair again, sea-green eyes twinkling slightly with all his fast-witted intelligence as he gauged Tony’s reaction to his words and _God_, Tony loved him.

“Let him come to me”, Tony grinned slowly, a statement rather than a question. “Like a stray cat.”

Stephen smirked dryly. “You know that’s not how I meant it. But yes. And he _will _come to you.” The sorcerer eyed Tony levelly as he sipped his tea. “You’re all he has.” Tony didn’t know how to feel about that last statement, feeling the urge to pour another glass of orange juice or go burn his throat on some black coffee, but he settled for the juice, taking a sip before settling into the kitchen chair adjacent from the sorcerer. Tony braced himself, heart thrumming anxiously as he worked himself up to what he was going to say. 

“Speaking of which, there was something I wanted to bring up with you, Steph.” He paused, only continuing when Stephen nodded with a raised brow in acknowledgement. “Well, um. How do I put this? Harley’s twenty one. He’s almost done school, and I know he’s not a kid anymore, but his mom’s gone, his dad is fuck knows where, all of his relatives are dead or alcoholics…like you said, I’m pretty much all he has.” Tony fidgeted with the glass of orange juice, tapping the silicon pad of one cybernetic finger against the glass, before looking up to meet those steady sea-green eyes searching his face with a hint of worry. “So, I was gonna ask you…when he needs it, can he pretty much, you know…live here?” Stephen’s brows shot upwards in surprise. 

“You’re asking me?” Tony relaxed a little when the sorcerer’s immediate reaction wasn’t angry rejection, but the relief was quickly replaced with guilt at the sorcerer’s shock, like he didn’t think his position in the family was solid enough for his opinion to matter.

“Of course I’m asking you, knucklehead”, he scolded gently. “It’s your home too. I’m not going to invite a whole adult human to live with us without asking you first. And I know you and him haven’t exactly gotten off to a smooth start, but-.”

“Tony.” Stephen cut him off gently, resting a placating hand on Tony’s good hand, his large, scarred hand making Tony’s look almost small. “Of course it’s fine. And if I were him, I wouldn’t like me either.” Tony’s heart dipped painfully in his chest at his words. Sure, he knew that Harley was a little standoffish, but for the sorcerer to feel that he wasn’t wanted was physically painful, an uncomfortable pit dug into Tony’s chest.

“Steph, come on…”, he tried, but Stephen just waved him off with a small smile. 

“It’s okay. It will take time, but I think the stray cat won’t mind me eventually. In the meantime, my job is to not aggravate him, and offer my help and support when I can”, the sorcerer replied matter of factly, but Tony was overwhelmed, chest bursting with gratitude. He ignored the uncomfortable wet, prickling at the backs of his eyes and rubbed a gentle thumb over the back of Stephen’s hand, his scars jagged and rough and beautiful under his touch. 

“What did I do to deserve you? Don’t answer that. I don’t deserve you, none of us do.” Stephen chuckled bashfully as his cheeks were tinged pink, covering his eyes with one hand while Tony gently gripped the other, revelling in his own ability to fluster the stoic sorcerer. 

“Enough. You know I’d do anything to help you and these kids.”

“Oh, good, so you can portal him to school tomorrow?”, Tony asked cheekily. “I know he’s having a rough time, but missing more class isn’t going to do him any good.”

Stephen didn’t even resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, I’ll open a _gateway_ for him. No problem.”

“Thank you”, Tony said as he met his eyes again, and meant it. Glad to get the uncomfortable conversation out of the way, his mind quickly diverted away from it, distracting him with thoughts of one of his other kids. “Hey. Where’s the other tiny gremlin? She not up yet?”

“Morgan?”, Stephen chuckled, his eyes softening as he leaned back in his chair. “No, she seems to be determined to sleep the morning away. Though I suppose it’s only 8:30.” Tony grinned, sipping his orange juice more carefully now that he didn’t feel like his lungs were filling up from the inside with liquid anxiety. 

“She is my kid after all”, he reasoned, leaning back in his own chair and eyeing Stephen appreciatively, though he tried to be subtle about it. The man could languidly drape himself over a chair like nobody’s business, owning the space with a relaxed air as he crossed his long limbs in a way that made Tony’s blood race. “I sure as hell wouldn’t be getting up at this ungodly hour if not for you.”

“Hmmm, I must be special then”, Stephen chuckled with that playful twinkle in his eyes, which were ridiculously blue in the morning sun streaming through the kitchen window.

“You must be”, Tony purred in agreement as he leaned forward with his elbows on the table. Before he knew what he was doing, Tony had stood and was gripping the back of Stephen’s chair as he looked down into those piece of ocean eyes, sitting sideways on the sorcerer’s lap. If Tony had thought it through at all, Stephen’s reaction would have been exactly what he had expected, high cheekbones dusted pink as he looked back up into Tony’s eyes, shaking hands hovering at Tony’s sides like he was scared to touch him, like he might shatter like glass. 

**_Touch me. God, please touch me, _**Tony thought inwardly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so emotionally revered as he did when he was around Stephen, but he longed for the physical equivalent. He didn’t believe he deserved such touch, like it was too much to ask for on his terribly scarred, metal-substituted, slightly overweight body, but he would do everything short of begging to get even the slightest of touches from Stephen.

Tony remedied the frozen moment with a soft smile as he brought his mouth to the sorcerer’s perfect cupid’s bow lips, humming as he elicited a gasp from Stephen when their mouths pressed together like two pieces of a puzzle, warm and steady. Tony almost sighed with relief when Stephen’s large, shaking hands finally found their way to his waist and settled there, holding him, grounding him. He didn’t care about the slight love handles that were evident under the soft fabric of his t shirt, under Stephen’s hands we felt like a god, he felt like he had when he was young and invincible, but different now. Now he was loved, steady, warm, safe.

He slung his arms gently around Stephen’s neck, letting his cybernetic hand cradle the back of the sorcerer’s head gently as they kissed, red and gold fingers gliding through thick hair that was like silver streaked midnight. Tony kissed him soundly, telling him how much he meant to him without the emotional words he knew he could never get out coherently. He might try one day, but right now this was okay, Stephen’s hands gliding up his back slowly as they both relaxed. Tony pressed into the sorcerer’s mouth like he was coming home, tongues exploring gently as their stubble scratched each other’s chins softly. Every intoxicating kiss Tony had ever had from other people had always been like a drug, or booze, pulling him in harshly and sickeningly with a bittersweet hold that left him with a hungover heart. But kissing Stephen wasn’t so much a drug addiction as it was like the intake of oxygen, clean and involuntary and necessary, breathing easy and sweet and coming back for more like he’d been doing it all his life. Tony finally pulled back a bit, though he wouldn’t like to admit that he was a little short of breath, smiling softly against Stephen’s lips as he pressed their foreheads together.

“This is good”, Tony muttered, looking down into Stephen’s glittering, soul-baring eyes with the utmost trust, caressing his cheek with his fingertips as they both smiled. “I like this. I like you.” Stephen chuckled again, softly and deep down in his chest as he wrapped his arms a little more securely around Tony’s waist, and Tony had to try not to choke at the emotions this action invoked.

“I like you too, sweetheart”, Stephen rumbled gently, smiling with amusement at the beautiful simplicity of their words. It didn’t need to be so hard anymore. This was good.

*****

It was a week later, late Sunday afternoon when Stephen was finally able to tear himself away from his duties at Kamar Taj training new apprentices, walking through a gateway and onto the melting snow front lawn of the cabin that he was truly beginning to think of as home. A preliminary scan of the front yard produced the now common sight of the garage door lofted open to let in the warm mid-March breeze while Tony and Peter worked on the suits, or other random side projects. Stephen walked over, feeling worn and tired from the week, enough that Levi was gently tugging on his shoulders to keep him upright, and eager to lose himself in the soothing lull of Tony’s life force. He was met with the warmth of the other man’s aura along with equally warm smiles as Tony and Peter spotted him.

“Hey, Doc”, the teen grinned. “You’re just in time to see Dad yell profanities at a tracker for another half hour.”

Tony growled playfully, cuffing the back of Peter’s head, subtly shoving the metal piece he’d been working on into a drawer of the work table as Stephen approached. “Ungrateful child. You can get that tracking device working on your own, then. It’s your fault it’s jammed in the first place, anyway.” He turned to Stephen with an amused grin. “Hey, you”, he greeted softly as he walked around the work table to meet the sorcerer, pulling him down for a deep kiss that left Stephen’s head reeling, while Levi wrapped around Tony protectively. Peter made a face, making a shooing motion in Stephen’s direction with one hand.

“Come on, Doc. You’re distracting my assistant”, he said impishly, already knowing what was coming. 

“Your _what?!_”, Tony yelped, turning on his heel and Peter ducked as a half-empty water bottle was chucked at his head. “I will not stand for this mutiny in my own workshop!”, Tony declared dramatically as he raced back around the work bench to try and grab the teen, though he had no chance of catching him as Peter slung himself up into the rafters with his web shooter. “Get down from there”, Tony grumbled, knowing he had been bested as he reached for a screwdriver on the table, practically hissing when a string of webbing snatched it away from his outstretched fingers.

“Careful, old man. Don’t want to throw your back out”, Peter teased gently, throwing the screwdriver between his hand. Stephen could see by the soft twinkle in his eyes that he was insulting Tony as lovingly as was humanly possible. But Tony wasn’t having any of it, acting put out as he went back to the stubborn tracker on the table. Stephen saw that Peter was distracted for a second, and took his chance, knocking the screwdriver out of the teen’s hands with a quick spell, the tool dropping into one gateway and out of another which he opened in front of Tony. The screwdriver clattered on to the work table and Tony picked it up with a roguish grin that made a thrilled shiver travel up Stephen’s spine, well worth the small effort the spell had taken. Peter, on the other hand, wasn’t so amused by the sorcerer’s little trick.

“Hey, no magic!”, Peter pouted, though he was fighting an amused smile. “Magic’s not fair.” 

Stephen crossed his arms as he looked up at the teen. “Fair? And using web shooters against a defenceless old man is?”, he asked, immediately going to kiss the pout off Tony’s face while Peter guffawed loudly, dropping down from the rafters with a mirthful smirk. 

“That’s it”, Tony growled, pretending to shrug Stephen off while Levi tried to wrap around him again. “The second you two start teaming up on me I’m tapping out”, he said, trying and failing to hide his grin as Stephen nuzzled his neck softly, giggling when the sorcerer didn’t relent. Stephen’s heart was warmed all the way through when Tony let himself relax in his arms and kissed him back softly.

“You guys are nauseating”, Peter observed casually as he sat on the work table and played with some washers. “It’s low-key adorable, actually.” Stephen couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up in his chest, his cheeks hurting from smiling as he couldn’t remember ever being this happy in his life. 

“I don’t know what low-key means, but I can agree with you on the adorable part”, Stephen said as he kissed Tony’s neck again and elicited another giggle from him.

“Okay. Stop”, Tony said, meeting Stephen’s face with his twinkling, laughing eyes, trying to mould his own face into something serious as he held him loosely at arm’s length. “That’s enough. Underoos and I have some very serious work to get done here.” 

“I can see that”, Stephen rumbled teasingly, pressing another kiss to Tony’s nose before taking up his designated seat on an old leather bar stool that was placed at the end of the work bench. Stephen gently brushed away Levi’s collar patting at his cheeks with loving excitement, as the sorcerer tried to tamp down the goofy grin spread across his face before turning to Peter.

“What’d you do to your tracker, anyway?”

“Smashed into a building”, Peter stated somewhat proudly, holding up the crushed spider-shaped casing. “Poor little spider drone didn’t stand a chance.” He looked at Tony with a mischievous smirk. “Don’t see why I need a tracker anyway.”

“We’re not going over this again”, Tony said, lifting the screwdriver up definitively without looking up.

“Helicopter parent”, Peter mumbled as he coughed into his fist, yelping with a giggle as Tony smacked his arm gently. “Jeez, okay. Keep your hands to yourself, Dad. What are you, three?” Tony gave a long-suffering sigh, all for show as he looked to Stephen almost pleadingly, the sorcerer forcing a straight face though his heart was bursting with endearment. 

“Strange, can you amuse the three-year-old for me? I can’t fix this and entertain Smashy McSmashton over here at the same time.” 

“Gladly”, Stephen said, sharing a grin with Peter. “How’s dance going then, Smashy?” The silence was deafening as Peter paused, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

“Dance? I don’t do dance”, Peter said with a screwed up look, and it was only then that Stephen realized his mistake. 

**_Shit. Wrong reality._**

It was his first major slip up and Stephen’s brain immediately told him to panic, but he managed to swallow the impending feeling of bile rising in his throat, forcing a smile onto his face though he fidgeted in his seat a little.

“Oh, for the Vishanti’s sake-. Must have been a weird dream”, Stephen said apologetically even as he saw the quizzical look Tony was giving him, something testing and uncertain in his eyes that made Stephen’s stomach turn. He relaxed only marginally when Peter granted him with a small laugh.

“Yeah, must have been pretty weird”, the teen snickered. “Can you imagine me dancing?”

“I could”, Stephen said, forcing his voice to sound casual, though his heart was fluttering uncomfortably at the way Tony’s eyes were flickering between him and his work. 

**_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You’ve gone this long without slipping, how did you just mess up with something so small?_**

“You’re extremely agile and coordinated. I’d think you’d be an amazing dancer if you were trained.” Peter just rolled his eyes, not noticing the way Tony had tensed up.

“Coordinated, sure. But that’s just when I’m using the suit. I’m a complete and utter klutz otherwise. Though I can dance a little better than him, at least”, Peter teased, jerking a thumb at Tony and Stephen was grateful to see that the jabbed insult was enough to distract Tony’s attention from his slip up. 

“Hey! Come on, what is this? Pick-on-Dad day?” Peter lit up with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Okay, that’s it”, Tony growled, Peter yelping as his dad slung an arm around his waist, lifting him off the table as he tickled his sides, as Tony was able to hold his own now that he had the full use of both arms. Peter giggled and squirmed, pleading Tony to stop, and Stephen was grateful for the moment of distraction, his heart still pounding resolutely in his chest, an uneasy smile quirking the corner of his mouth as he watched Tony and Peter’s playful wrestling. He was focusing hard on not falling into an anxious spiral, panic gripping his chest as memories of different realities bombarded his mind.

**_Just let me stay in the present for once, god fucking damnit._** Stephen had to bite his lip to ground himself physically in this reality, jumping a little as he noticed a presence standing outside the open garage door. Harley watched them silently for a moment, decked out in fluorescent green crocs as he stood in the slushy snow, quirking a brow at Stephen in greeting.

“The oven dinged”, Harley announced, barely audible over Peter’s laughing as Tony noticed the other kid standing there.

“What?”, he asked, noogying Peter gently once more before letting him go, the teen giggling breathlessly as he tried to regain his breath.

“The. Oven. Dinged”, Harley tried again, overly loud as if Tony were hard of hearing, and Tony gave him an unimpressed look.

“And it didn’t occur to you to take some initiative and take the casserole out of the oven?”

“No?”, Harley shrugged, pulling his hoodie up over his head before turning and neon green slip-sliding back up the porch steps. 

“I’ll go take it out”, Peter offered as he trailed the older boy out of the garage, subtly showing Harley up as they silently vied for position of favourite son, though Harley wasn’t trying very hard to that affect, seemingly very self assured in his role as Tony’s first and favoured child. Tony only huffed a little as he watched them go, hearing the front door slam shut before he turned to Stephen and spoke.

“I swear to god, that kid gets straight A’s in MIT engineering, but the rest of the time he doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together.”

“Oh, please”, Stephen said with a slight eye roll, desperately wishing that his slip up had now been forgotten entirely. “Give the kid a break, he just lost his mom and now he has midterms next week. I think he can be forgiven for not being interested in helping cook.”

“I’m letting him crash here on weekends, he could at least pull his own weight”, Tony retorted, but without any sharpness behind his words. Stephen knew how thoroughly Harley had Tony wrapped around his little finger, only rivalled by Peter and Morgan, as his kids were his soft spot above all else. 

“You’re a big softy”, Stephen purred, hooking a hand around Tony’s waist in a fit of confidence to pull him closer, pressing a kiss to his temple and ignoring the half-hearted grumbles his comment elicited. His heart was still thrumming with fear, fear that he had just made a grave mistake, but it seemed like Tony had forgotten for the moment, at least, wrapping his cybernetic arm around Stephen’s lower back as they walked to the house. 

Dinner was quieter than usual as Morgan was at Pepper’s for the weekend and Harley was still sullen only a little more than a week after his mom’s funeral. But Peter was determined to fill the silence, doing his best to ignore the other boy’s brooding, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Stephen and Tony. He talked until the end of the meal, and continuing into washing dishes afterwards as he stood beside the sink with a drying cloth where Stephen had his hands in the lukewarm water, who had realized about half an hour ago that Peter’s nervous chatter was a subconscious compensation for Harley’s intrusion on their dinners. Stephen, Tony, Peter, and Morgan had very comfortably adapted to the realization that their family dinners were a time to recharge, talk, and work through any problems or worries anyone was having. Now Harley’s presence had thrown a wrench in their comfortable routine and Stephen could emphasize with Peter’s uncertainty, but there wasn’t much they could do other than be as open and friendly as possible to the new addition of their mismatched family. It wasn’t until Harley silently trailed his way out the front door and Tony followed him, standing at the edge of the lake as they got in a much needed private talk, that Peter ceased his steady stream of dialogue, staring blankly out the kitchen window as he dried a plate. 

Stephen nudged the teen with his elbow gently, sleeves rolled up as he tried to get Tony’s favourite casserole pan clean. “Talk to me, spiderling.” Peter just snorted, picking up a glass and drying it rather aggressively. 

“You know what I’m pissed about”, Peter muttered darkly, with about as much venom in his voice as Stephen had ever heard.

“Yes, but there’s nothing to do but be patient with him”, Stephen sighed patiently. “His mom just died, you know he’s not this miserable all the time.”

Peter shook his head. “No, no that. I get being sad, but he’s just-.” The teen turned to meet Stephen’s eyes, wincing momentarily as he set the glass down too hard and it clinked dangerously against the others in the cupboard. “He’s just so freaking crotchety…” Stephen couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth at Peter’s use of words, but hid it well as he pretended to pick at some dried cheese on the casserole pan. 

“And smug”, Peter hastened to add. “He acts like he was raised in a barn, and the way he talks to Tony, how he treats him…?” The teen shuddered a little, as if the thought were too terrible to bear. “He talks to him like he’s some bum on the street that he wouldn’t give the time of day to.”

Stephen met Peter’s enraged eyes carefully. “You two have had very different experiences with Tony, and you know what they say about first impressions. He doesn’t hold him up on a pedestal like you do.”

Peter’s face flushed not-so-subtly. “I don’t-“, he started, but then cut himself off, knowing the attempt at redeeming his pride would be futile. “Okay, but the way he treats you is terrible too, and he doesn’t even know you.” Now it was Stephen’s turn to dip his head in embarrassment at Peter’s protective tone, affectionate warmth blossoming in his chest, but he distracted himself by scrubbing at the pan. 

“He doesn’t trust me”, Stephen shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s fair, most people don’t.”

“But, Doc-.”

“It doesn’t bother me, Peter”, Stephen said quickly, in a tone which suggested that it did. “Sorry. But Harley’s opinion of me is his problem. I have plenty of other things to worry about.” **_Yeah, like if Tony has realized something’s wrong, that you’ve been lying to him for almost a year about what you saw in those realities. _**Stephen noticed that Peter was watching him with a concerned frown and he nudged the teen gently with his elbow again.

“Don’t worry about it”, Stephen assured with a smile, looking up as the front door opened and Tony came back inside, Harley trailing behind him, though he stopped to lean against the threshold between the kitchen and the living room with crossed arms. 

“Harley was gonna go to the theatre in town”, Tony announced as he addressed Peter. “What do you think, Pete? You two can go, give you a chance to get to know each other without us old people around?” Tony seemed invested in the idea, but Stephen didn’t miss the way Peter’s eyes widened marginally with panic, his gaze glancing from the sorcerer, to Harley, and then back to Tony.

“Uh, yeah, sure. That’d be cool”, Peter grinned, never one to disappoint Tony, though Stephen could hear the underlying quaver in his voice, seeing the way his grip tightened on the dish towel he was holding. 

“What car can we take?”, Harley asked Tony bluntly, looking bored about the whole ordeal, though it was hard to tell when his face was obscured by his hood and his dark blond mess of hair. Stephen noticed the way Peter frowned at Harley’s bold question, his lack of graciousness, everything that the teen took to be a display of utter disrespect, and the sorcerer could see it shook him to his core when directed at his beloved mentor and father figure. Tony wasn’t even phased. 

“Take the GT-R, but be gentle with her on the back roads. And FRIDAY will let me know if you go over 50 miles an hour, so you can bet your ass will be grounded if you speed. I don’t care how old you are.” Harley grumbled in compliance, rolling his eyes slightly at the threat and frowning when Stephen spoke. 

“Tony, I don’t think that’s the best idea”, the sorcerer said cautiously, not wanting to overstep Tony’s authority, but his gut told him that he would regret not standing up for Peter a little. 

Tony’s brow furrowed with confusion as he looked at him. “What? With the car? Nah, Harley’s fine”, he assured, waving Stephen off with one hand as he chuckled. “He’s a better driver than I was at his age, anyway.”

“Not the car”, Stephen corrected gently, feeling his skin crawl at the cold look Harley was giving him. “I meant the movie. Peter has school tomorrow and an exam on-.”

“You making excuses for him, wizard?”, Harley asked stiffly, cutting him off while those snapping blue eyes met the sorcerer’s challengingly. Stephen looked back at him steadily, not too perturbed by his show of juvenile aggression, though it took a respectable amount of self-control to bite his tongue.

“No”, Stephen replied levelly, letting his voice drop into the deep timbre that he usually avoided using when speaking with his family. “Of course not.” Peter’s expression was practically murderous with protective rage as he glared at Harley, but the other boy didn’t notice and Stephen shook his head when Peter glanced at him, silently willing him to just drop it. Peter was practically vibrating in frustrated anger at the injustice of the situation, but took a quiet step away from Harley. Harley either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“Keys, old man?”, he asked Tony, lifting his hand to receive the set of keys tossed at him from the hooks by the front door.

“What do you say?”, Tony smirked teasingly, hands on his hips. Stephen reminded himself for the umpteenth time that this was just their dynamic and it was good and fulfilling in its own way, despite being so different from Tony’s relationship with Peter.

“Can we have some cash? For snacks and shit?”, Harley grinned back, knowing he was pushing it, thought it was obvious he was kidding, laughing a little as Tony smacked his arm.

“No. I meant ‘please’, you feral creature”, Tony growled, but handed him a fifty and a twenty from his wallet anyway. “Get out of here, you two.” Tony shoved Harley towards the door, but then dropped a gentle smooch on Peter’s forehead, ruffling his hair with a smile that said he knew that this was difficult for Peter, but he appreciated that he was trying for Harley’s sake. 

“See ya, Dad”, Peter grinned softly, turning to give the sorcerer a look of silent thanks for at least trying to get him out of the uncomfortable outing, and Stephen sent him a quick wink before the teen headed out the door. Stephen turned back to the sink as they heard the garage door open, the sports car’s engine revving a little as Harley backed it out of the garage and ripped off down the driveway.

“Freaking kid”, Tony muttered affectionately, crossing his arms as he watched through the kitchen window until the car disappeared. “He makes Peter look like an angel.”

“Peter _is_ an angel”, Stephen muttered absently, not looking up from where he was still scrubbing the stubborn baked-on cheese on the casserole pan, lost in thoughts of millions of realities so similar to this one. They all mixed together most of the time, as it was hard to determine between them when they barely varied from one to the next, pulling him in and tugging at the edges of his memory every waking second of his life. Stephen was pulled out of his thoughts quickly, startling a little as he felt Tony’s hand on the small of his back.

“Hey”, Tony said, grinning gently as Stephen turned to look at him with wide eyes. “You seem jumpy today, what’s up?” Stephen shook his head a bit before turning back to the pan, determined to pretend that everything was completely normal, but he could tell Tony wasn’t having it.

“Everything’s fine”, Stephen insisted, trying to keep his voice steady as Tony rubbed his back gently. For the Vishanti’s sake, how could he be so stupid as to risk this? All because he couldn’t keep his freaking mouth shut. “Just tired from work is all. I swear, fighting Dehori is easier than training new apprentices all day”, he said, forcing a chuckle, but almost choked when he looked over his shoulder and Tony’s eyes met his cooly, not believing a word of his cover up. God, why’d he have to fall in love with a genius?

“C’mon, Steph”, Tony reasoned, tilting his head in empathy. “You have my instruction manual, I got yours, that was the deal. So I know when something’s up with you. Tell me”, he insisted gently, cybernetic fingers caressing the side of Stephen’s waist. “Please?” Stephen couldn’t lie to him like this, not when Tony was all big brown and blue eyes looking up at him trustingly, the silicon pads of his artificial fingers toying softly with the fabric of Stephen’s t shirt. He couldn’t lie to him like this, so he didn’t say anything, just helplessly shaking his head a little. His heart dropped as he saw the flicker of disappointment in Tony’s eyes.

“Seriously, Strange?”, Tony tried again. “What was that earlier? With the dancing thing. Asking Peter about dancing…you and I both know that wasn’t a dream. You’ve…seen something. Stuff you’re keeping from me.” Stephen was fairly certain his heart stopped for a second, gaping a little as his hands hung frozen in the warm dishwater, freezing as he looked into Tony’s eyes. This was up there with his worst nightmares, for Tony to find out about what he had truly seen in those 14 million realities. 

“It was a dream”, Stephen finally managed to choke out, though there was no air in his lungs. His stomach clenched as something dark and guarded flickered behind Tony’s good eye, his hand dropping from Stephen’s side.

“Don’t bullshit me, Stephen. You’re a terrible liar.” 

**_Only to you_**, Stephen thought, swallowing past the choking feeling in his racing heart as he carefully dried his shaking hands on a dish towel. He didn’t see any way out of this without piling more lies on top, and he hadn’t been particularly fond of keeping this information from Tony in the first place. He tried taking in a breathe, but he just ended up choking on it, coughing into his fist as Tony looked at him with a mix of concern and wariness. 

“You’re right”, Stephen finally managed, not able to meet Tony’s eyes for fear of the doubt he might see there. “I am a terrible liar, and it wasn’t a dream.” The hard edge left Tony’s gaze as Stephen admitted this information, still watching him intently. “I suppose this had to come out sooner or later”, Stephen choked out. “It might as well be now.”

“What had to come out?”, Tony asked, dread overcoming his face as he actually took a step back.

“What I saw in the 14 million realities”, Stephen breathed, and Tony nodded like he’d known all along. 

“Right. The 14 million. That was it, wasn’t it? Why you saved me? Are you finally gonna tell me why you almost died for me, Stephen?” 

Stephen’s heart dropped into his stomach at the question suddenly resurfacing. He knew Tony wouldn’t let go of it, too hell-bent on refusing to believe that Stephen could have almost died for a stranger out of the kindness of his heart. What scared him more was the feral fear he could see in Tony’s eyes, so similar to the the last time this question had come up, desperate self-hatred boiling through him that night in Central Park. 

Stephen relented with a choked exhale. “Yes…I should have explained that to you a while ago, and I’m sorry, but I…just couldn’t tell you-.”

"What couldn't you tell me?”, Tony asked desperately, frustration and fear taking over his face. “Couldn't tell me in case it messed with the future? If you tell me, it won't happen?”, he asked almost mockingly, terrified in his own insecurity. “That kind of wizard bullshit again, Stephen?” Stephen surprised them both as he teared up, his chest convulsing in on itself as he choked back a sob, waves of repressed guilt suddenly washing over him like a tidal wave. 

"Please don't throw that in my face”, he begged hoarsely, biting his trembling lower lip. Tony’s eyes widened guiltily as he steadied his hands on Stephen’s shoulders, looking up at his face resolutely. 

"No. God, no. I'm sorry, Steph”, he soothed, taking Stephen’s trembling hands in his, rubbing the scarred backs of them with his thumbs gently. Something in Stephen’s peripheral memory told him that he should be insecure about Tony’s touching his scars, but he barely had the awareness to register that he was still standing, never mind pull his hands out of Tony’s soft grip. “I just have to know why, it’s killing me not to know”, Tony said, voice softer but still edged with desperation. “I mean, there is a reason, right? Something you saw in the 14 million…?” Stephen sighed a little, something in his chest breaking as he exhaled, vaguely wondering if this was the beginning of the end. 

"Why do you have to be so goddamn smart?”

“Knowledge is my curse, I guess…”, Tony muttered bitterly, forcing a smirk that come off as a grimace.

“You might want to…sit down for this”, Stephen muttered numbly, gesturing to the kitchen table. It felt like he was astral projecting, like he wasn’t in his own body, heart thudding mutely in shock-coated fear and anticipation. 

**_It was good while it lasted._**

“I think I need to sit down as well”, Stephen said as he pulled the chair out robotically before lowering himself into it before his shaking legs gave out on him, watching as Tony silently did the same in the chair opposite him. Stephen finally made himself meet Tony’s eyes and he was relieved, finding those familiar mismatched eyes looking back at him steadily, though concerned, but without spite or anger. He took a deep breath, preparing to bare his heart and soul, to spill his guts onto the table for Tony to dissect and tear to pieces if he so wished. 

“So…the 14 million realities. On Titan…”, Stephen started, his voice already catching. By the Vishanti, how was he supposed to get this out? How could he tell Tony this when it might be the breaking point of their relationship? He knew of Tony’s past betrayals, knew of his trust issues from being stabbed in the back five too many times, knew what his relationship was like with those backstabbers nowadays: Nonexistent.

“Right”, Tony said, nodding to encourage him to continue. 

“Right”, Stephen repeated, wondering if Tony could hear hist heart pounding. “And I told you how the different realities could show various outcomes of the battle? Well, there were many of those realities I saw which…well, a lot of things were different in them. Many where the world ended in 2018 when we failed on Titan, but that’s what I had to make sure didn’t happen once I knew what needed to be done. Anyway…there were some where we never met, or we met much earlier than we did in this reality. There’s even a few where you were never Iron Man. In those realities, the beginning of the end of the world was in 2012, with the Chitauri invasion…just in case you ever doubted how big of a role you played there.”

“That’s…”, Tony paused, eyes wide and edged with panic as he visibly tried to calm himself. “Okay. That’s not freaking me out at all”, he muttered sarcastically. “But what…what does that have to do with you thinking Peter had dance lessons?” He paused again, and Stephen could practically see the wheels turning in his mind as things clicked into place. “That was in the realities you saw?”

“Yes”, Stephen breathed, trying to stop his hands from shaking so goddamn much. Tony’s brow screwed up quizzically as he stared off into the middle distance before meeting Stephen’s eyes again. 

“I thought…I thought you just saw what happened during the Titan battle.”

“I did…but I also saw the…details which affected each reality differently, the details and people and relationships which characterized it and changed the course of the future.” Stephen took a breath as he paused, watching Tony’s face as he built himself up to delivering the truth he’d been holding back for too long. “After the first three million or so, I skipped ahead through a lot of them when we kept losing on Titan, but then pieces of someone’s life kept flashing through, important parts, so I slowed down again at the five million mark. And it was a good thing I did. I mean, I didn’t get to the winning reality until right before you pulled me out of viewing them, but-.”

“That was it?”, Tony interrupted, adrenalized anxiety clear on his face. “The last one before you started…glitching was the winning one? 14,000,605?” Stephen had to suppress a sad, sardonic grin at the irony of the situation, the split second timing which had led them to this reality, this situation, this moment

“14,000,606, actually.” He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even remember how to. “That’s…that’s this one. I didn’t get to see the end of it before you pulled me out, but I knew enough. I knew what I needed to do to save you, at least.” The look on Tony’s face was haunted, horrified, heart-broken, on the verge of tears as he opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a gravelly whisper.

“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, just slowly reached a hand across the table to rest gently on the back of Stephen’s, gripping it tenderly, tentatively like he was holding a handful of broken glass. Stephen could have sobbed with relief, pressing a scarred fist against his mouth to hold back the broken noise bubbling in his throat. The only noise in the silent kitchen was the ticking of the analog clock on the wall, like thunder strikes in the heavy, silent air, hitting in time with Stephen’s steadily pounding heart. He cleared his throat quietly, forcing himself to keep speaking. He had to tell him all of it. 

“So…”, Stephen started, his voice sounding like it was coming from someone else. “From about five to ten million I…let myself view some of the details. It was selfish, really, but in the end I’m glad I did it.” Tony looked up to meet his eyes, decades of pain and self-hatred glazed over by curiosity as his hand remained locked around Stephen’s, his voice wavering a little as he spoke. 

“Right… What’d you see in those ones?”

“Uh, well, most of them were really good…”, Stephen admitted with the smallest flicker of a smile. “You know how I mentioned how relationships greatly affected the realties?” Tony nodded, brow furrowing a little. “Well, I saw about five million realities worth of tiny variations throughout them specifically regarding…us.” Stephen’s heart was just short of pounding out of his chest when he finally got it out, watching with bated breath as Tony’s eyebrows rose a fraction of a millimetre.

“Us? Like, you and me?” He pointed between them with his free hand. “Our relationship?”

Stephen paused before answering. “…Yes.” Tony ran his cybernetic hand through his hair, obviously grappling with this information, though he didn’t let go of Stephen’s hand. 

“Okay. Wow. Jesus, I…I didn’t know that”, Tony muttered in disbelief, and Stephen felt his heart pang in guilt, like a physical reminder of how long he’d been holding this in. “Uh, what…what’d you see in those realities…?” Stephen wasn’t sure he was breathing at this point and he was starting to feel light-headed, the only thing grounding him was Tony’s warm hand on his. 

“Like I said, we were friends a lot earlier in a lot of them, one-time acquaintances in others, and then in a few we never met.” **_Those ones were the worst,_** Stephen thought. **_Almost as bad as the ones where I had to watch you die in front of me._** “The…our universe ended in 2018 in those realities.” The expression on Tony’s face was unreadable, and Stephen was about to speak again when Tony sighed a little.

“Thank God we met, then…” **_Okay, he’s not mad at me yet. Maybe it will be okay…maybe._**

“To say the least”, Stephen said with the smallest of smiles. “And well, there were many where the universe fared a lot better when we knew each other well before the Titan battle.” Tony’s interest piqued at this.

“Yeah? I can picture that, us being a crime-fighting duo”, Tony said appreciatively, the corner of his mouth quirking up a little. “I bet you would have been on my side with the whole Ultron thing…and the Accords.” Tony sighed a little, his hand tightening around the sorcerer’s fingers ever so slightly. “It would have been good to have a loyal friend back then.” Stephen couldn’t even respond to this, his eyes flickering away from Tony’s face in embarrassment with what he was about to tell him, the enormous bombshell he was about to drop. Tony seemed to notice his lack of an answer and his brow lowered a little.

“We weren’t just friends in those realities…?”, he asked carefully, connecting the dots quickly, and Stephen shook his head.

“There were…other realities…quite a few, actually…where you and I…were…together.”

“Together?”, Tony clarified levelly.

“Together.”

“Like this kind of together? Dating and-?” Stephen didn’t have a heart without him anyways, so he thought that he might as well say it.

“Married.”

Tony froze. “We were married? In those realities you saw?” Stephen nodded again, but couldn’t bear to meet Tony’s eyes in case he saw any form of resentment or disgust.

“For decades in some of them”, Stephen admitted, his voice rough as he teared up a little, heart swelling in relief when he turned to look at Tony and his eyes were soft, sympathetic, and full of love as he took Stephen’s hand in both of his. “There were a few where we got married in our early twenties and everyone told us we were crazy, but we just…worked.”

“I can’t imagine dealing with you for decades”, Tony said softly with a grin, but the look in his eyes said he could easily imagine that, and gladly. Stephen could have sobbed with relief, Levi floating over from their spot in the corner of the living room to land on his shoulders, dabbing at his tears with their collar. Tony was looking into his eyes like he was imagining that reality play out, his voice careful when he spoke again. “And there were others?” Stephen smiled a little, his chest lightening in relief at Tony’s reaction.

“Yes, there were. God, I’ve met you in so many different ways, at so many different times, but it always turned out the same.” Stephen’s smile widened slightly, feeling how perfectly his hands fit in Tony’s, forgetting the scars and the shaking and the pain for a second. “We were always head-over-heels for each other, didn’t matter what else was happening, we were always each other’s one constant. Marrying you was undoubtedly the best thing that came out of seeing those realities.” He looked up to see that Tony’s eyes were undeniably warm and full of a tender light, even as shock swam over his face, he seemed to settle into the idea of these alternate realities like they were the best thing he’d ever heard.

“Wow. We, uh…we would have been quite the power couple. Quite literally”, he chuckled a little, before he seemed to have a sudden thought. “So, you knew Peter in those realities too, then? Hence the dancing question earlier?” Stephen nodded, embarrassed. “He was still my kid, or what…?” Stephen had to try and swallow more tears at his words, grateful when Tony squeezed his hands reassuringly.

“He was…our kid…a lot of the time. In most of the realties, actually.” Stephen found himself getting lost in the millions of memories, trying to ground himself with the feeling of Tony’s soft grip on his hands. “He was our baby boy, Tony…so many times…over and over, whether we adopted him as a baby or met him much like you did.” Stephen was concerned, but not surprised to see Tony tearing up a little at this point too, holding onto Stephen’s hand softly, like a lifeline connecting him to these precious memories.

“Really?”

“Yes. Harley too, but not as often for some reason. He was always important to you, but Peter was our…everything.” **_Is our everything_**, Stephen corrected himself mentally. 

“And…Morgan?”, Tony asked tentatively, like he might not want to know the answer. Stephen breathed a shuddering sigh before speaking. 

“I’ll admit there are many realities where she wasn’t in our life or didn’t exist… In the ones where you and I were together, sometimes we adopted her from parents who died in the Snap or, well… there were a few where Pepper and I were on much better terms.” Stephen smiled bittersweetly, letting himself recall the memories he often tried in vain to keep shut out. “She and I were friends, actually, much like you two were in that reality, and she…well, she agreed to be a surrogate for us.” The silence was deafening as Tony processed this information, gaping a little as the clock ticked on the wall almost mockingly.

“Holy shit”, he said finally. “You…you and me could have had any one of these other lives together, but…this is how it worked out, hey?”, he asked, his voice breaking a little, and Stephen had to bite the inside of his own cheek to keep from letting out a sob. “This is the reality that the universe dealt us?”

“Yes…”, Stephen whispered. “But I assure you it’s millions of times better than what it could have been”, he said, his voice full of the dread that came with remembering those less favourable realities almost every day. There was another beat of silence, dread creeping back up into Stephen’s chest like a poison as he saw Tony’s brow furrow in confusion.

“What you did still doesn’t make any logical sense, even after seeing all those realities, you had to have realized that we weren’t _in_ those realities. Yet you still almost threw your life away for me…” Tony trailed off, like he was desperate to get Stephen to understand his confusion, but didn’t have the words to do so. “I know I’m sounding harsh, but… I mean…you only knew me for a day. One day, that’s it.”

“It was three thousand years for me.”

Tony blinked. “What?”

Stephen took another shuddering breath before he spoke. “Viewing all those realities, I mean, at about half an hour each if you take an average. Do the math.” Stephen’s own frustration welled up in his chest, pushing out the tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. His voice was broken when he spoke. “I lived through almost 14 million realities during that time…and I loved you in almost all of them.” Tony pulled his hands back almost robotically, and it was a metaphorical punch to Stephen’s gut, though Tony didn’t seem to realize he had even moved.

“That’s why you did it”, Tony rasped, tearing up as his brow furrowed, face pinched with understanding and relief and intense gratification. “That’s why you almost sacrificed yourself for me, you asshole.” His voice was accusing, but the way his eyes were glittering with tears softened the blow. “You fucking fell in love with me, Strange…on that planet…right from the very start.” Stephen let his own tears roll down his cheeks hotly, desperately wishing Tony would take his hand again, something he never thought he’d be thinking again after his accident. 

“Yes”, he whispered, his voice just barely audible. Tony shook his head with a slightly pained look, his one sunlit brandy eye flickering with the sorrow of all their lost months, all their lost years, decades even. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, Tony asked desperately. “Did you…did you think I was going to be mad or something? You could have told me…I would have loved to know all of this sooner.” Stephen nodded slowly. He had expected this sort of reaction from Tony upon finding out that the sorcerer had been lying to him. He’d been lied to too many times before, after all. And now about this of all things.

“I…I know. And I wish I had, I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t risk affecting our present like that.”

“Our relationship, you mean?”, Tony asked, scoffing a little. “God, Stephen that could have made things so much easier, instead of months wasted because I had no clue how you felt.” Stephen was trapped between agreeing with Tony and feeling defensive. He had done everything short of confessing his undying love to show Tony how he felt about him.

“You think Pepper was pissed with me hanging around all the time?”, Stephen asked, frustration seeping into his tone. “How do you think she would have reacted to me telling this to you? I’ll tell you. It wouldn’t have gone very well, Tony.” Tony relented, sitting back in his chair as he chewed on his cheek in thought.

“Well-. Even if you had just told me the half truth. Or told me just as friends.”

“Just as friends?”, Stephen asked, raising a brow skeptically, though his heart was breaking at those dreaded words. “Tony, you can’t just be friends and expect to stay friends after you say to someone that you have fallen in love with them literally millions of times, over and-.” Stephen’s voice broke as his expression softened. “Over and over, in millions of different, little ways.” Stephen wiped the tears from his cheeks quickly, but Tony noticed, giving him an empathetic grimace. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I - I would have been fine…”, Tony insisted weakly. “It’s not like I didn’t feel anything for you too.” Stephen’s stomach flipped uncomfortably, trying to keep his mind focused on logical thought so he didn’t just dissolve into a puddle of emotions. 

“Do you honestly think it would have been fair to say to you, when you were a married man, ‘yeah, you know all those futures I saw? In them, we had an entire life together, we were married to each other’? Do you think you would have been able to handle that?”, Stephen forced out as his voice caught again. “We probably wouldn’t have even managed to be friends if I had done that.” Tony growled gently, crossing his arms as he looked away for a second, coming back to meet Stephen’s eyes with a new intensity, an almost pleading challenge behind those coffee brown and sky blue eyes.

“I think you’re underestimating my abilities to be a thorn in your side for the rest of your life, Strange. You should have told me.”

“I know I should have told you, and I’m sorry”, Stephen sighed, hoping Tony could tell how much it had eaten him up inside to keep this from him for so long. “I don’t want you to think I would keep secrets from you if it were my choice. But I also didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, knowing all that about you.”

“Taking advantage of _me_?”, Tony asked incredulously, eyes blown wide. “I’m the one who’s been worried about that with you, asshole, using you as fucking human morphine, for God’s sakes.” Stephen sighed as he gave Tony a patient look.

“Please don’t make me justify that again to you, Tony. We both know there’s no alternative.”

Tony nodded. “I know. Fine. It’s…fine. I’m just…trying to wrap my head around it all.” He leaned forward on the table, cradling his head in his heads and Stephen wanted to reach out, gently pull his hands away from his face, but he was frozen in place. ”I’m still struggling to understand this, Steph.”

“Tony”, the sorcerer tried gently. “There was so much riding on this future, and then so much has happened since then-.

“What?”, Tony interrupted, looking wounded. “You don’t trust me?”

Stephen frowned, his heart crumbling. “Of course I trust you. But, Tony, I was stuck in a time loop for _three thousand years_, and I fell in love with you 88% of those times.” Tony blinked. Numbers were easy, quantifiable. The numbers sunk in his mind with deep meaning and stuck there. “Do you have any idea what it was like knowing that, and then seeing the winning future where I was going to have to watch you die?”, Stephen gasped as the memories came flooding back, Tony’s ashen face, crushed arm, and glassy eyes flashing through Stephen’s mind. “Do you have any idea how many times I had to watch you die, Tony?! Over and over and over, in millions of different ways, and I can’t fucking forget any of them!” Tony seemed shocked by his outburst, his expression passing from surprise, to understanding, then to quiet despair.

“No, of course I don’t. Not like I haven’t had to watch my friends die in my own mind ever…”, he muttered with a tinge of sarcasm, voice low and dark. “But you could have at least told me…given me some sort of idea of what you’d seen.” He was pleading with him again, and Stephen wanted to plead right back at him. 

**_Please understand I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to betray your trust_**. 

“You…you didn’t even tell me why you saved me, that you were freaking well in love with me.” Tony drew his hands through his hair again, rocking in his chair, looking like he was biting back tears as he met Stephen’s eyes again. “You should have told me, Steph… I was in agony.”

“You think you were in agony?”, Stephen demanded, Levi shivering worriedly on his shoulders as millennia worth of painful memories and a year of suppressing them welled up all at once, boiling into desperate aggravation. “You were married! To Pepper! What the fuck was I supposed to say, Tony?!” Stephen cut himself off with a sob, leaning exhaustedly back in his chair while cupping a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his cries. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” 

Tony watched him with a heartbroken expression, jaw set stubbornly as he met Stephen’s face with big, sorrowful eyes. He leaned forward in his chair, and for one heart-stopping moment Stephen thought he was going to get up and leave, but he just leaned his elbows on the table, reaching his hands towards Stephen and laying them down on the table with his palms up. Stephen looked at him through tear-blurred eyes, glancing at his hands before sliding his shaking ones into them. Large, scarred, trembling hands that fit perfectly into one soft but calloused hand and one of black silicon fingertips and red and gold metal. 

“I’m - I’m so sorry, Stephen”, Tony started, his voice rough and wavering with tears. “I was too blind to see what was right in front of me and that’s my fault, not yours.” He took a deep breath, squeezing the sorcerer’s hands gently as a comfort to them both. “I didn’t know. Didn’t know about all those realities… but I guess I didn’t really need to know about them…to know what I felt for you….” He chuckled wetly, blinking up at the ceiling quickly to try and slow the tears running down his cheeks. “God, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fall in love with you…the second I saw you when I woke up in the hospital…after you…saved me like that.” He took a shuddering breath and Stephen realized Tony’s hands were shaking as they held his. “No one…no one's ever thought my life was worth saving…not to that extent…and least of all me. That’s the first time that…I haven’t had to save myself with my own armour and ingenuity…or whatever. Instead, I was saved because you…thought I was worth it and…cared about me enough. And I…I can still barely believe that.” Tony ducked his head, letting the tears slide down his cheeks and Stephen reached a shaking hand out to thumb them away softly, pulling Tony’s face up gently.

“Look at me”, Stephen muttered, his voice cracking with the weight of all the emotion bombarding his chest. “I’m sorry too. I should have told you…much sooner, so at least you would have known why I did that.” Tony nodded miserably, but met the sorcerer’s eyes, pressing his cheek into Stephen’s hand as tears tracked their way down the lines in his face. “But I’m so glad, every second of every day that I gave you…a piece of myself. Because after seeing all those realities…there wouldn’t have been anything left for me to live for if I had let you die.” Tony just shook his head silently.

“I don’t deserve you”, Tony whispered brokenly, years of self-hatred refusing to let him believe what the sorcerer was saying, and Stephen’s heart cracked in two. He didn’t let go of Tony’s hands as he stood and walked around the table, kneeling down in front of him like he was praying to a god, holding his hands tightly enough that pain coursed through his own.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you deserve everything?”, Stephen asked, eyes glistening as he looked up into Tony’s tear-filled ones. Tony considered this for a second, something inside him physically breaking as he gave the sorcerer a wet half-smile.

“Three thousand?”, he asked, trying to pull off a cocky grin before his face crumbled. Stephen immediately shifted forward to slide his arms around Tony’s waist, to hold him up, to keep him together, to keep him from crumbling further. Tony automatically wrapped his arms around the sorcerer’s shoulders, letting a jagged sob cleave his chest in two as he buried his face against Stephen’s dark, silver-streaked hair, crying hard enough that his entire body shook while Levi reached from Stephen shoulders to wrap around the other man as well. Stephen had to fightback his own tears, pressing the side of his face against Tony’s stomach as he tried to hold him together, hands gently rubbing his shaking back. The tears came again, and they were silent compared to Tony’s, but they held about three thousand years of relief and tension built up and released as he held the love of his life in his arms, no secrets between them, just the solid, warm feeling of his body wrapped in his arms and cocooned around Stephen’s shoulders. Levi was wrapped around them both gently but tightly, holding them together as if melding their life force back into one. They held onto each for a long time, long enough that Stephen’s legs began to ache, but he didn’t even notice the discomfort until Tony’s hands drifted from his shoulders when he sat up a little, red-eyed as he let out a shuddering breath. 

“You okay?”, Stephen asked carefully, pulling back and letting his hands drop to Tony’s waist as he still kneeled between his legs. Tony nodded slowly.

“I will be.” His hands fell on Stephen’s shoulders, cradling the base of his neck, giving him a small grin as he felt Stephen’s pulse thumping. “I’m just going to need some time.”

“What do you mean?”, Stephen said gently, brow quirking up a little.

“Well, mostly time to believe you when you say you don’t regret what you did. And…time to process everything you’ve just told me.” He sighed heavily while Stephen’s heart landed in a pit in his stomach, wondering if everything they had just said had even meant anything. **_Did Tony mean more than he was saying? Was his breakdown an involuntary cover up for the real issue he had with the 14 million? Had Stephen broken his trust too far for their relationship to continue? _**All these convoluted questions racing through Stephen’s anxious mind and he tried to ask at least one, but he could barely manage to breathe, panic gripping his chest. 

“Time, like, time apart?”, was all Stephen could get out, managing to sound like a clingy teenager in the process. Tony shook his head immediately with a soft smile as he cupped Stephen’s cheek, soothing the sorcerer’s doubt and insecurities a little.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Just…you’ve had a year to process this. I need to think about what this means for our relationship, you know? Maybe just…give me a couple of days?” A hundred terrible scenarios raced through Stephen’s head, mostly consisting of them taking a ‘break’, only for their relationship to end afterwards. Stephen wouldn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in, an insurmountable thing to even believe, that there had been millions of realities that Stephen had known Tony in and then hadn’t bothered to tell him about until now, maybe too much for their relationship to handle without breaking. Stephen knew that he himself was surely too broken, that he came with too much baggage. Maybe his past involving becoming a sorcerer hadn’t scared Tony off, but surely this was going to be where he drew the line.

** _He’ll never trust you after this. You’ve taken advantage of him, you’ve lied to him, you’ve betrayed him._ **

“Okay”, Stephen said shakily, his tone betraying his innermost thoughts as he stood, knees almost buckling under him as Tony reached an arm to steady him. “You…I’ll give you time, then. I’ve got…I’ve got work to do at the Sanctum anyway.” Tony stood up quickly, trailing him as Stephen started to back towards the front door.

“No”, Tony said, brow gently furrowing. “I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave. Unless you really have to, of course.” Stephen felt like he was being torn in half, Levi’s collar patting at his cheek in frustration until he swatted them away. Of course he didn’t want to leave, but he also couldn't sit here and watch Tony debate their entire relationship, their entire future, knowing that there was a chance Tony might come to the conclusion that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who lied to him.

“It’s okay”, Stephen assured, trying to force his voice into something that sounded convincing. “I do have some work to get done and I’ll just be underfoot here, driving us both crazy”, he grinned nervously. Tony wasn’t fooled for a second by his casual facade, his good eye like a burning ember of dark brandy, mouth pulled into a straight line as he stepped forward to place his hands on Stephen’s waist, looking up in his eyes like he was seeing the sorcerer’s very being. God, Tony hadn’t seen a single one of those realities, but he knew Stephen so well.

“You do drive me crazy”, Tony admitted in a hushed mumble, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But not in a bad way.” He leaned forward, pulling Stephen into a tender kiss that took the sorcerer’s breath away, practically melting as Tony’s strong arms were braced around him like a suit of protective armour. Oh god, he really didn’t want to leave now, shaking fingers reaching up to graze the silver stubble of Tony’s jaw, his lips open and wanting against the warmth of Tony’s mouth, Levi wrapping around them and pulling them together more securely. He really didn’t want to leave, but the sharp, irrational thought that this might be their last kiss made him pull back, though Levi was determined to keep him where he was meant to be.

“Levi, enough”, Stephen muttered embarrassedly, as the cloak had themselves enveloped around Tony’s back so his body was flush with the sorcerer’s.

“I think they have the right idea, cheeky bastard”, Tony grinned softly, meeting Stephen’s eyes and flushed cheeks with the warmest look in his eyes, enough to make all of Stephen’s resolve disappear. But then he met his blind eye, the scarred side of his face, and all the millions of memories of watching Tony die rushed into Stephen’s mind, drowning in guilt as he pulled back apologetically and Levi finally gave in. 

“Sorry about that”, Stephen muttered, heart pounding as his panic attack began to settle into his chest. “I better get going. Uh, tell Peter goodnight for me.” 

“I will”, Tony nodded with a regretful look, and the lack of his usual responding quip of _‘Tell him yourself’_ was enough to make Stephen’s stomach turn. “See you, then, Steph”, he said quietly. “Don’t let Wong work you ragged.”

“See you”, Stephen said as he nodded in agreement, turning to the door and walking out into the cool, wet dusk before his heart burst out of his chest. He strode across the lawn, gasping in the cold air as anxiety gripped his chest completely, wanting to run back inside to Tony’s warm arms, but he’d already committed to his decision, so he cursed himself out instead.

“How could you let it slip?!”, he muttered angrily to himself under his breath, still walking hurriedly away from the cabin, thought Levi tried in vain to make him turn around. “Asking Peter about his fucking dance lessons, of all things!” A shiver travelled across his skin as he walked through the protective barrier around the yard, which had been successful in keeping the stray dog out while Tony taught Morgan that it wasn’t safe to try and pet strange dogs. Now, Stephen stopped dead, the back of his neck prickling as he whipped around, finding a pair of eyes watching him from the bushes. 

“He hasn’t chased you off yet, hmm?”, Stephen asked the dog bitterly. The dog was silent, its blind eye shining like a pale marble in the low light. “Well, I suppose you haven’t lied to him.” Standing in the silence of the darkness, Stephen felt his heart pounding angrily in his chest, bewildered anger at himself and grief for the whole frustration making his blood boil, leaving him shivering as a cool wind picked up. He looked over as the bushes rustled a little and the dog stepped out, head lowered as it watched the sorcerer carefully with one intelligent, glittering brown eye. 

“Keep _an eye_ on them for me?”, Stephen joked dryly, lifting his arms to make the movements to open a gateway, feeling as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. The dog didn’t even step back or look alarmed as the ring of sparking gold appeared and Stephen stepped through it with one last regretful look at the cabin. 

*****

It was dark by the time the two boys walked out of the theatre, Harley traipsing ahead with his hands shoved in his pockets, dropping his hood as they stepped out the front doors. Contrary to Tony’s hopes, two and a half hours sitting in a darkened theatre together had done nothing to strengthen Harley and Peter’s relationship. If anything, it had added more strain to their already tense association with each other. The new Star Wars movie had probably been an especially bad choice, considering its length and that Peter had already seen it three times. Harley sighed,scuffing the ground with his sneakers as he looked over his shoulder to see the teen’s face illuminated by his phone screen, _supposedly_ texting a friend. But Harley could tell from the excited glimmer in Peter’s eyes and the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth that it must have been his crush, not that he cared to remember her name.

“Come on”, Harley groaned impatiently, fishing the GT-R keys out of his pocket. “Better get you home so your wizard daddy doesn’t get all up on my ass about it.” Peter sneered as he looked up from his phone, looking more akin to a disgruntled baby rabbit than anything vaguely threatening.

“Please don't call him that”, the teen pleaded, tight-lipped as he trailed Harley through the parking lot, which was surprisingly empty for a Sunday night. A moment of silence fell between them save for the sound of their shoes scuffling on the pavement, cars whooshing by on the highway in a scattered stream of headlights. “What do you have against him, anyway?”, Peter asked suddenly. Harley stopped, tossing the keys lazily in one hand as he turned to face the eighteen-year-old head on. 

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you such an ass to him?”, Peter glowered. “He’s been nothing but kind to you, and you act like a complete tool to him. I mean, you act like a complete tool in general, but especially around Doc.” Harley quirked a brow. He didn’t think the soft city kid would have had it in him to throw insults out of the blue. 

“Just because you gather dads like hockey cards to make up for being an orphan, doesn’t mean I have to get all buddy buddy with some weird jack ass”, he said easily, revelling in the way anger ignited in Peter’s eyes like someone flicking on a lighter. What he didn’t expect was the way the set of Peter’s jaw, the dark hurt in his eyes, made something in his chest jolt painfully, the first real thing he’d felt since his mom died.

“Fuck you too, Keener!”, Peter yelled, turning on his heel and storming past the car, apparently making a beeline for the highway. Harley hadn’t been expecting this either, and a very small sliver of panic worked its way into his chest.

“Hold on”, he said, taking a step after the teen. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Peter didn’t answer, just kept walking away, barely visible expect for when he passed under a lightpost. “Get back here, Parker!”

“No!”, Peter threw over his shoulder viciously. “I’ll walk back to the cabin, don’t even try me!” If Peter were anyone else, Harley would have had no qualms about letting him walk ten miles in the dark, but he wasn’t willing to face Tony’s disappointed look he was bound to get if he showed up back at the cabin without Tony’s precious ‘spider baby’. Seeing no alternative, Harley began to jog after him.

“Hey. Wait!” Peter showed no signs of stopping. “Parker! Stop!” Peter stopped dead, turning to meet Harley’s eyes with a venomous glare, waiting for him to catch up before he spoke.

“What?! So you can insult me some more?” Harley looked away, squirming uncomfortably under the usually docile boy’s vicious expression.

“No. Fine, I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter didn’t look impressed, so Harley weighed his options, pulling out the empathy card. “Look”, he said with a heavy sigh. “I’ve had shit luck with parents too, okay? My dad left when I was five, my mom was an alcoholic who drank herself into the ground. Happy?”

Peter just scoffed. “If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re not getting any from me, man.”

“No”, Harley said, like he was disgusted by the very suggestion. “I don’t need your pity. I just need you to quit being a baby and get in the car. Not like I would have to chauffeur you around if you had your licence.”

“Well, excuse me for dying!”, Peter yelled sarcastically. “I didn’t exactly have time in the past five years to get in driving practice!”, Peter snarled, waving over his shoulder as he turned away again. Harley had to swallow the frustrated panic rising in his throat as he watched the boy’s flannel clad back retreating into the dark.

“You’re not the only one who’s dealt with shit, okay, Parker?!”, he called. Peter stopped again. Encouraged, though feeling vaguely manipulated, Harley went on. “We’ve both gone through shit and…we’re dealing with it differently, okay?” The teen turned around in a flurry of oversized flannel and brown curls as he glared at Harley in the growing dark.

“What?”, he asked sarcastically. “Like I latch onto anyone who gives me the time of day, right?”

“That’s not what I meant”, Harley muttered, feeling guilty despite himself. 

“What’d you mean, then?!”, Peter demanded angrily.

“Fuck, I’m jealous of you, okay, Parker?!”, Harley exploded back at him, surprising them both with his words. He definitely hadn’t been planning to say that out loud, but he could see he had Peter’s interest at least, so he kept going. “I wish I could trust people like you do. I wish I had the patience to see the good in people”, he admitted, resisting the urge to pull his hood up over his head, tossing the keys between his hands as he looked anywhere but Peter’s face. “Everyone I’ve ever trusted has screwed me over royally, okay? Tony’s been the only exception so far…” Harley’s voice softened of its own accord, hating the heavy feeling that was seeping into his chest. “I mean, hell, I’ve known Tony for ten years and I still think he might just…stop calling one day.” Silence fell between them before Peter broke it.

“He’d never do that”, he assured, like he’d never believed something as much as he believed in that fact alone. Harley found himself mildly comforted by the conviction in his voice.

“I know”, he muttered. Cold wind tossed both of their hair around, headlights from the nearby highway bleeding through the grass and drawing flashes of long shadows from where they stood. Harley sniffed quietly, glad that it was dark and they couldn’t see each other’s faces well.

“I don’t think the Doc’s going anywhere either”, Peter said gently. “He…he’s a good guy.”

“You think?”, Harley scoffed at his naivety, but something deep in his chest flickered with hope. He could make out the bob of Peter’s curls in the dark as he nodded.

“Yeah. You should give him a chance. I mean, he puts up with my annoying ass, so he can't be so bad.”

Harley snorted. “You’re not that annoying, Parker. You’re a cry baby, and a complete suck up to Tony, but you’re not annoying.”

“Sorry I can’t say the same for you”, Peter said, the hard edge to his words softened by amusement. Harley chuckled dryly, realizing that the heavy feeling had started to leave his chest, though not entirely. The wind picked up and he tried not to shiver as he finally did pull his hood up, jerking a thumb towards the car and Peter followed him, silent as they walked side-by-side in the dark.


	19. Can’t Help Falling in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowledge of 14,000,605 alternate realities could either be the breaking or starting point for Stephen and Tony's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wise men say only fools rush in  
But I can't help falling in love with you  
Shall I stay?  
Would it be a sin  
If I can't help falling in love with you?
> 
> Like a river flows surely to the sea  
Darling so it goes  
Some things are meant to be  
Take my hand, take my whole life too  
For I can't help falling in love with you
> 
> Like a river flows surely to the sea  
Darling so it goes  
Some things are meant to be  
Take my hand, take my whole life too  
For I can't help falling in love with you  
For I can't help falling in love with you
> 
> I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW IMPORTANT IT IS THAT TONY GOES TO STEPHEN UNPROMPTED INSTEAD OF THE OTHER WAY AROUND FOR ONCE. Stephen always goes to Tony, is always chasing after him, now it’s Tony’s turn.
> 
> This chapter is extremely self-indulgent, which is also why it’s so bloody long…don’t call me out for being a wordy bitch. Hope you guys enjoy it and feel free to leave a comment with your favourite part(s) of the chapter.
> 
> Tony Stark deserves all the support and love in all the multiverses. That is all. They’re both vain gays who are also very insecure atm (I had to rewrite that last kiss scene entirely because it was just NOT working. I hope it’s better now cause sheesh…)
> 
> Me, as poetically as possible: Tony wants to fuck

Once again, Tony was haunted by the empty side of the bed after Stephen left on Sunday night, shoving his face into the sorcerer’s pillow as their conversation ran through his head relentlessly. 

It was a lot to take in, to say the least, knowledge that there were over 14 million alternate realities where he and Stephen had still been in each other’s lives. On one hand, Tony was overcome with an immense sense of relief to finally know what the sorcerer had seen, especially about why he had given up half of his life force after only knowing Tony for a day. On the other hand, he was still submerged in the uncomfortable guilt that came with Stephen’s selfless act, struggling to come to terns with the sacrifice being made by someone else, for his benefit for once, despite the countless reasons for Stephen to have done what he did. Like Tony had said, he needed time to process it all, and to believe Stephen when he said he didn’t regret it all, staring up at the ceiling in the dark with an uneasy heart. 

He knew Stephen had been reluctant to tell him about the alternate realities for a number of reasons, and he ran them through his head in a methodical list over and over, just to give his brain something to do other than worry about Stephen. 

First of all, Stephen hadn’t been able to share what he’d seen in the realities because of Pepper, but that obviously wasn't an issue anymore. Then there was the case of Stephen feeling as if he had been taking advantage of Tony by knowing so much about him, which Tony thought was ridiculous considering the situation of pain management with their life force, though finding himself slightly endeared by the sorcerer’s concern. Lastly was Tony’s infamous trust issues, mainly courtesy of Obadiah and the Avengers, the familiar swirl of uneasy guilt and resentment flashing through his chest quickly even as he thought of them. He was usually successful in keeping them out of his mind, but tonight was an exception. Steve and the Sokovia Accords, Natasha siding with Steve, that one time Thor lifted him by his neck that still had him waking up in a cold sweat some nights, Bruce refusing to back him up when things went wrong with Ultron, and Clint-. Tony searched his mind, not able to come up with anything but indifference. What exactly was the point of Clint? 

Letting himself dwell in his misery, Tony didn’t see himself getting much sleep that night. He’d invested so much of his life into those people, who used to be his friends, and it hurt more than he’d like to admit, his chest heavy with the crushing weight of treachery and misguided failure. 

In short, since Stephen obviously knew about his experiences with the Avengers, he’d had every right to fear he'd lose Tony’s trust by telling him about the alternate realities, especially after having kept them secret for a year. Old feelings of heart-stabbing betrayal had threatened to resurface, tearing at layers of trust he had invested in the sorcerer but, hours later laying in bed, Tony found the newfound knowledge infiltrating into his current perception of Stephen comfortably, completely devoid of any possible resentment.

Everything Stephen had told him, all the good parts about their - oh, god, _their family,_ did nothing but make his heart ache with longing and love, made him want the sorcerer even more, to know everything about him too. If anything, their conversation had just made Tony want every single piece of Stephen, especially after hearing that there were realities where they’d already had decades together. He’d been more than overwhelmed by the sorcerer’s love confession, in the other realities, at least, barely able to think straight as Stephen poured his heart out to him, open and bare and unflinching. Tony was also determined to believe Stephen someday, when he said that he didn’t regret giving up half of his life force, insisting that Tony deserved it despite the ghosts of self-resentment that had been lodged in Tony’s ear for as long as he could remember.

More than anything, he was disturbed by Stephen leaving as he had, the fear and panic vivid in his eyes as he pulled out of Tony’s embrace. Tony had felt his heart breaking a little, feeling guilty for driving him away by asking for some time to process their conversation, and what it meant for their future. He’d just wanted some time to arrange all the intense emotions in his chest, to sort his mind out a little, but Stephen had obviously taken it the wrong way as he had fidgeted uncomfortably and stormed out of the cabin. Guilt had consumed Tony, still choking him heavily as he realized that Stephen’s default setting was believing that Tony didn’t want him. But he supposed he didn’t blame him after almost a year of avoiding their feelings for each other, Tony doggedly choosing Pepper over the sorcerer until he didn’t.

So, wrestling with his guilt and too much love with nowhere to put it, Tony was left missing the feeling of Stephen in his arms while he tossed and turned in the too large bed, finally dropping off into an uneasy sleep somewhere around 2 a.m. 

Tony’s alarm went off five hours later and he groaned as he dragged himself down the stairs to get a pot of coffee going, as he had to pick Morgan up in Queens in two hours. His chest was still numb and empty from spending the night apart from Stephen after his misconstrued departure the evening before, playing with his gold chain and pendant idly while the coffee brewed. Morning coffee always tasted better on the front porch with the view of the sun coming up, so Tony settled himself on the porch steps with his mug, glad for the mildly warmer weather. The morning was still tinged in the dissipating nocturnal chill, auburn light seeping over the horizon as he sipped at his black coffee with a relieved hum. Still fingering his life force pendant absently, his only thought were of how much nicer it would be to be sharing this moment with Stephen, thinking of how he would have given the sorcerer one of his extra big sweatshirts to keep his sensitive hands warm in. Tony checked his phone compulsively, toying with the idea of sending him a text, worrying momentarily if that would seem clingy before he reminded himself that he was almost 54. He didn’t have time to worry about things like too many “Good morning” texts, so he sent one. 

Content, Tony took another sip of his coffee, peering through the steam rising from his mug as he recognized a now almost familiar figure in the bushes. The ragged, skinny-looking dog stepped from the cedar bushes by the edge of the lake, sitting down outside the magical protective barrier as it regarded Tony calm with its one brown eye, and he felt a flicker of companionship and pity for the sorry-looking animal. Tony nodded at the dog in empathetic acknowledgment, making a mental note to ask Stephen to take down the barriers next time he was over, simultaneously making up his mind on something he had been wrestling with. As much as he had always been a muddle of bad coping mechanisms and trust issues, there were a few things of which Tony was certain: Everyone deserved a chance, trust was a fluid thing, and alone was no way to spend your life. 

*****

Stephen walked past Wong on his way to the second floor kitchenette, the dregs of his fifth cup of tea that day still in the mug he was holding. He jumped a little when the other sorcerer suddenly let his book drop with a loud thud on the coffee table beside his chair.

“For the love of all the worlds, Stephen, stop it!”

“What do you mean?”, Stephen asking innocently, voice droll with lack of emotion, not bothering to turn around as he poured yet another cup of chai, the teapot shaking in his scarred hands. Okay, the insurmountable amounts of caffeine he’d been consuming might have had a little something to do with the shaking. 

“I mean enough with the pacing and the brooding”, Wong growled, picking his book back up now that his point had been made. “And drinking us out of our supply of chai isn’t going to make any difference to Stark’s decision.”

“Obviously”, Stephen drawled as he turned around, cupping the hot mug in his hands, letting the heat seep into his damaged nerves until they tingled uncomfortably, just to feel something. “But that’s just it. It’s been three days, I’m fairly certain his decision has been made. He’s done with me.” Wong frowned skeptically.

“Then how come he’s still texting you at least five times a day?” 

Stephen glowered in return as he sipped his tea, leaning back against the counter. “What makes you think that’s him?” 

Wong sighed, all patience completely lost within the past three days. “Who else texts you, besides me?” Stephen’s frown deepened as he considered his words, mildly offended.

“Christine”, he muttered, though he knew there was no swaying Wong in his conviction, and the disgruntled librarian was right, of course. Tony had been texting him multiple times a day since Sunday night. There had been the usual good morning and good night text for days that they spent apart, both casual and profound in their mere existence. Then there were the texts in between, little reminders or comments or painfully sweet and short messages that made Stephen want to break down sobbing, but he’d respond with a heart emoji or something and then turn his phone off, choking down the feeling of confused doubt that was consuming him. 

**_He’s easing you out gently_**, Stephen tried to convince himself, quenching the flicker of hope that ignited in his chest. That night had been such a blur of emotion, he could barely remember whether Tony had actually seemed angry while he was leaving or if it was all in his imagination. He vaguely remembered Tony giving him a heartbroken look as he was pulling out of his arms, but now he couldn’t decide whether it was because that had been goodbye, or that he hadn’t wanted Stephen to leave. It especially didn’t help that the other 14 million realities were blurring into this one as they often did, muddling the edges of this reality, the most precious reality, until Stephen wanted to scream with frustration. He tried meditating, he tried spells, he even tried soothing teas. He tried every method available to him in order to sort out the jumbled, dark, tangled mess that was his mind, but all he got was flashes of clarity, making it impossible to string any of it together coherently. This left him desperately lost in his own thoughts, not sure if he could trust his own judgement, so now he truly wasn’t sure where he and Tony stood. Yes, he kissed him goodbye, he’d been texting him daily since, but by all accounts, Tony should be cursing him out for lying to him, so Stephen numbed his mind and braced himself for Tony’s inevitable conclusion. 

“Strange!”

Stephen blinked as he looked up at Wong, finding the other sorcerer watching him in concern and realizing that he must have zoned out again.

“Sorry”, he muttered, giving his friend a sheepish look as he sipped at the tea that was miraculously still in his shaking hands. The heat was starting to numb them, numb the pain for once, though he knew his nerves would be screaming once the heat was taken away again. “Just…haven’t slept much the past few days.”

Wong shook his head. “This isn’t just your usual insomnia. Don’t think I didn’t notice you with that bottle of gin the other night.” The moment weighed heavily as guilt turned in Stephen’s stomach at falling back on old habits from his teen years. Wong sighed heavily, and Stephen winced at the sound. “I worry about you when you get like this, Stephen.”

“I’m fine”, Stephen insisted weakly, his voice catching and ragged in his throat like a mouthful of sand. Wong shook his head again, looking even more disappointed than usual.

“You are not fine. I’ve known you for three years and I’ve never seen you drink that much at once. Look at you. You’re a mess.”

Stephen snorted. “Thanks.” Wong gave him an exasperated look, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“You need to give Stark some more credit. He will make the right decision. He’s not an idiot.” Stephen couldn’t help the small, lop-sided grin that involuntarily broke over his face at his friend’s words, looking down at his feet as he spoke, setting his half-empty cup of tea on the counter. His hands were starting to feel a little jittery, definitely not just from nerve damage any more.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Wong scowled. “It wasn’t a compliment. Now go sulk somewhere else. I need to read in peace.” 

“Fine. I’ll go suffer in silence”, Stephen said, prompting a loud guffaw from his friend, igniting a small flicker of warmth in his chest as he left the room, lifting a hand to call Levi to him. The cloak floated over from their spot by the window, eager to offer comfort as they landed on his shoulders. They immediately wrapping around Stephen’s body as he traipsed up to the third floor, making his way to the hall to the narrow staircase at the end of the hall which lead to his bedroom, separate from the rest of the fourth floor. The ancient floor boards creaked beneath Stephen’s bare feet as he gingerly padded to his bed and dropped down on to it, Levi cocooning around him loosely as he rolled on to his back and stared up through the ceiling. Sighing quietly, Stephen pulled a hand up out of the cloak’s hold, wrapping scarred fingers around the small arc reactor pendant around his neck

His chest had just been starting to hurt since that morning, though it was hard to distinguish between the life force separation pains and the aching grief of missing Tony, pressing the pendant to his chest in a desperate attempt to amplify its healing energy. It had slowly began to dawn on Stephen that he would slowly deteriorate if his relationship with Tony ended, devolving into full-body pain and dysfunction similar to what he’d experienced right after Tony had gone home from the Wakandan hospital, the haunting chill of mortality beginning to creep over him when there was a sudden knock on the threshold. Sitting bolt upright on his bed, Stephen was both horrified and overjoyed to see Tony’s face peering around the bedroom door with a cautious, but bright grin.

“Hey, you”, Tony said warmly, like he always did, and Stephen wanted to run into his arms. But he stopped himself as he stood carefully, eyes locked on Tony like a cat watching a bird. “Wong let me in”, Tony explained, though that had always been the norm. “He told me you were up here.”

“Okay”, Stephen nodded numbly, disgusted by how small and shaking his voice sounded as he subconsciously gripped Levi with one hand, a desperate attempt to quiet the furious beating of his heart as he met Tony’s soft eyes. He looked apologetic, like he was about to try and let him down easy, and Stephen felt his heart being torn in half. Tony gave him a sympathetic head tilt, eyes softening as he nodded understandingly at the sorcerer’s stiff stance and fearful expression.

“Look, Steph…I know things have been a little weird between us the past few days, but I’m glad you gave me that time to…work through all of this, you know?” Tony rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked everywhere but the sorcerer’s face, settling on the ornately carved wardrobe in the corner. “This is…well, this is kind of a big deal, after everything you told me, so I…I wanted to do this in person.”

**_Oh shit_**, Stephen thought. **_This is it. He’s done with me. I’m just another person who’s betrayed his trust._** Tony met the sorcerer’s eyes and his brow furrowed in slight concern at the deer-in-headlights look plastered on Stephen’s face, taking a step forward as he held his good hand out.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come here.” Stephen wanted to reach out for his hand, pull him into his arms, but he was frozen in place, shaking his head minutely though the action knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Just…tell me what your decision is”, Stephen choked out, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched Tony’s face fall, his good eye filling with insurmountable confusion and grief.

“My…decision? Stephen…” Tony took a deep breath, shifting his weight uncomfortably as he visibly worked through what the sorcerer had just said, obviously struggling to accept what Stephen meant. Stephen’s heart dropped as he saw Tony grip his left wrist in a fit of anxious uncertainty, his bullet-proof tell for when his nerves got the better of him. “You’re…you thought the past three days was…me deciding if I still wanted to be with you?” Stephen couldn’t answer, nodding quietly as his eyes dropped to his feet. The dread of the past three days had built up in his chest until it was bursting painfully, self-doubt and anxiety consuming his mind.

“I lied to you…”, Stephen muttered hoarsely. “I lied to you for almost a year…taking advantage of you…and you’re saying you still…”, he took a breath, overwhelmed. “You’re still going to give me a chance?” Tony’s face crumbled immediately at the sorcerer’s words, his good hand drifting to his chest and pressing against where Stephen knew his arc reactor scar was. 

“Oh, Stephen…”, Tony rasped, brow pinched with guilt as he took a step towards him, crumpling in on his own chest with the devastation of knowing Stephen’s mistaken perception of their conversation on Sunday night. “Stephen…” The sorcerer was horrified as Tony took several steps in front of him, and took the sorcerer’s trembling, tense hands in his before dropping to his knees, looking up at him with big brown and blue eyes, glistening with remorse. 

“I’m sorry…”, Tony muttered, voice tight with shame and conviction. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. For every second that I made you feel any less than everything to me, I’m so sorry. After everything you told me, all the lives we had together…” He paused, looking away for a second, brow furrowed in sorrow before he met Stephen’s eyes again, thumbs rubbing the scarred backs of his hands softly. “How could I not want to be with you? Yeah, I’ve had people hurt me before, but you’re not one of them and I know that. I’ve told you, I trust you, Stephen. I trust you with my life.” Stephen could barely stand, legs numb as, once again, Tony’s hands on his were the only thing grounding him to this plane of reality. “So, when you told me there were, what…? Almost 10 million realities where the universe knew that you and I should be together? Hell, that’s good enough for me. So, I don’t mind that you kept that from me for a little bit. I just know that I want you, babe. That’s all I want.” Stephen couldn’t breathe, choking on the disbelief swarming through his limbs as he tugged on Tony’s strong hands gently with his trembling, broken hands.

“Oh, for the Vishanti’s sake…Come here”, Stephen muttered, embarrassed at Tony’s honest display of affection and overcome with heady, dizzy relief as he gently pulled Tony to his feet. Tony straightened up, looking up into Stephen’s eyes with all the open vulnerability in the world, bracing his strong, steady arms around the sorcerer’s waist like he always did. 

“I’m sorry you misunderstood what I meant by needing time”, Tony said gently, remorse clear on his face. “I had no idea you took it like that, Steph.”

“Stop apologizing”, Stephen muttered bashfully. “It’s fine. I overreacted.” Tony just shook his head, pulling Stephen closer so their bodies were flush with each other, Levi wrapped around them both as they held eye contact, vibrant and soft all at once.

“No, it’s not fine. I’ve made you feel like I don’t want you, even when we were friends.” Tony bit his lip, uncomfortable in his guilt. “You’ve been so good to me and I haven’t given back even half of what you deserve.” Stephen had to look away from Tony’s intense, loving gaze as his eyes teared up. What could he possibly deserve after how much pain he’d caused Tony, after he hadn’t been strong enough to find a reality where Tony didn’t have to snap to save the universe?

“But…how can you trust me after I lied to you like that?”, Stephen rasped out painfully, refusing to meet Tony’s eyes again, the irrational part of his brain expecting to feel his arms pulling away from around his waist. Instead, Tony’s grip tightened, lifting his good hand to cup the sorcerer’s cheek and gently guide his face to look in his eyes again.

“Stephen, you had your reasons. Good ones. And I forgive you, okay?”, Tony assured, a sad, sweet smile creasing his smile lines. Stephen felt his heart forming somewhat back into its proper shape as Tony’s thumb softly brushed the edge of his jaw, his fight or flight response relaxing as he realized Tony was still holding him close, looking in his eyes softly. 

“I’ve only ever been sure of two things my entire life. Choosing Peter…and this. Us. I know I’ve hurt you…”, Tony admitted brokenly, his hand moving to rest on the back of Stephen’s neck tenderly, fingers twined softly into his dark hair. “And I know it’s going to take a long time for you to know that I’m never going to leave, but I’m gonna try to fix that, because you’re worth it.” He smiled bittersweetly, his steady, warm hand sliding down to the side of Stephen’s neck with a feather light touch, fingers grazing the sorcerer’s racing pulse. “And that’s what I do. I fuck things up, and then I fix them.

Stephen gaped a little, overwhelmed as his brain tried to catch up with his racing heart, his only response was to tighten his hold on Tony’s back, his scarred fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt as they met in a fevered, longing kiss. Stephen swallowed the sob building in his throat as a piece of his soul fell back into place, aching and broken against Tony’s mouth as he melted in his touch. Their mouths moved desperately and softly all at once, lips warm as Tony pulled him steadily down even as he pressed up to try and gain some purchase on the taller man’s mouth. Stephen found himself gently gasping for air as their lock and key grip on each other dissolved into deep, slow presses against the other’s mouth until they pulled back reluctantly.

“I don’t know if you can fix me”, Stephen whispered hoarsely against Tony’s lips, head swimming with relief and ecstasy. “But that feels like a good start.” Tony chuckled lightly as he held him closer, if possible, kissing Stephen’s cheek softly in response. Stephen could barely comprehend the intense gratification he felt just from being held in Tony’s arms, their life force humming in rejoice as its two halves were reunited, warming the sorcerer from the inside out as he pressed his forehead to Tony’s shoulder, letting himself be held as the tears came

“Oh, honey”, Tony soothed, rubbing his back as he gathered the sorcerer in his arms. “I’m not that bad at kissing”, he joked gently, prompting a wet giggle from Stephen as he buried his face against his jacket, overcome with the waves of love and utter relief washing over him. Tony hugged him tightly, rocking slightly as he held Stephen like he was the most precious thing in existence. “I missed you. God, it was only three days, but I missed you.” Stephen smiled as he pressed his cheek against Tony’s neck for a moment, breathing in his calming, familiar scent of coffee, motor oil, and metal, brushing a kiss against the exposed skin.

“I missed you too. I thought-.” Stephen cut himself off, hiding his face in Tony’s shoulder again as he took a breath, steadying himself before he pulled back slightly, meeting those coffee brown and winter sky eyes that he loved so much. “I’m glad we’re okay. But we can take it slow for a bit, if there’s still some stuff you need to work through.”

Tony actually laughed, bright and affectionate as he met Stephen with twinkling eyes. “Slower than we have been already? Baby, the universe already stole away five years from us. Hell, maybe even half a lifetime.” He cupped his cheek again and Stephen leaned into the touch with a content smile, heart thrumming with the weight of Tony’s words. “I’m not going to waste another second not being with you, Steph.” 

“Glad we’re on the same page”, Stephen muttered gently as he let a content smile spread across his face, his heart whole and bursting with love. **_Oh, for the Vishanti’s sake, he loves me back._** The thought almost threatened to spill more tears, but Stephen didn’t want to ruin his view of Tony’s beautiful smile, letting his trembling hands slide up to his shoulders. 

“So, if you’ll let me…”, Tony started cautiously, straightening the edge of the sorcerer’s robes with careful fingers. “Let me take you out to dinner.” Stephen dipped his head modestly, fighting an overwhelmed blush.

“You don’t need to-.”

“Look, Strange”, Tony interrupted gently. “I haven’t taken you on an actual date yet, so we’re going to do this properly, alright? Let me take you somewhere nice. You’ve got to be sick of pad thai by now.”

“You know I could eat pad thai for the rest of my life without getting sick of it”, Stephen grinned, his face softening a little as he met Tony’s eyes earnestly. “But that would be really nice. Dinner with you.”

“Good”, Tony grinned back. “I’ll pick the place, my treat. You just have to pick me up and look pretty doing it.” Stephen hooked his wrists gently behind Tony’s neck, like their dance in the living room the day after their first kiss, swaying with each other slightly though there was no music, while Tony wrapped his arms even more securely around the sorcerer’s waist.

“I think I can manage that”, Stephen rasped with a sly smile, tilting his head a little as he dipped down to meet Tony’s lips again, solidifying the moment as a small step towards the rest of their lives together. 

*****

They decided on Friday night for their date, but Tony insisted that Stephen come over for dinner at the cabin anyway, despite it already being Wednesday. Tony seemed eager to get back into their regular routine and Stephen certainly wasn't going to complain, opening a gateway to the backroads near the cabin for Tony to drive the Audi through, the sorcerer actually enjoying the wind whipping through his hair as he rolled the window down to feel the early spring breeze. He didn’t give himself time to dwell on the anxieties that came with being in a car, his chest practically drowning in the warmth of Tony’ s presence and life force as they pulled up in front of the cabin. They stumbled inside, almost tripping over each other as they stole playful pecks on lips and cheeks between them. There was still so much to be said about their recent separation, about the millions of realities, but after three days of tension and loneliness, Stephen was practically giddy with relief as they both substituted floundering, useless words for gratifying physical touch. Neither of them were very good at talking about their feelings in the first place, and mixed with their longing for each other, sweet, yearning kisses seemed to be the best option at the moment. Tony explained that Morgan wouldn’t be dropped off at the cabin until later, along with Peter who would be catching a ride, and there was a flicker of electricity in the room before they were on each other again. 

Stephen was gratified to hear Tony suppressing quiet moans as he pressed the sorcerer back against the couch cushions, exploring his mouth ravenously as they made out with as much energy as people less than half their age. Stephen’s heart thumped soundly in his chest as he let gentle, scarred hands rest on Tony’s waist in a moment of confidence. Tony’s mouth was soft, but hungry, all over his lips, his jaw, his neck, while his cybernetic hand played with the collar of the sorcerer’s robes, teasing and gentle. Stephen smiled into their kisses, cheeks tinged pink as he found himself lost under Tony’s attention, almost embarrassed by the amount of affection he was receiving. Tony blushed as well as they heard a hearty ‘ahem’ behind them, and they jumped apart like they’d been shocked. They both looked around quickly with wide eyes to meet Harley’s unimpressed eyebrow raise as he stood by the living room threshold.

“I’m here for my reading week”, Harley explained with a smirk at Stephen’s bewildered expression, sipping casually at a green smoothie that definitely looked like one of Tony’s concoctions. 

“Oh, right. I forgot you were here”, Tony joked, though he obviously hadn’t remembered entirely, possessing the grace to look a little sheepish as he clambered off of Stephen’s lap, straightening his shirt a little. 

“Glad to be so memorable”, Harley said dryly with a bark of laughter. “As gross as it is, I’m glad you two got your shit figured out. He’s been walking around whining like a baby for the past three days”, he told the sorcerer, walking into the kitchen as he pointed an accusing finger at Tony, who mumbled something incoherent.

“Alright, that’s enough, kid. He gets it, I’m a miserable wreck. What else is new? I’ll tell you what’s new, you drinking something other than Coke. That stuff’ll rot your brains out or something.” Stephen grinned at Tony’s embarrassed rambling, oddly pleased at seeing the normally suave man so flustered. “I’m gonna go get washed up before I start on dinner. Now this shirt is going to smell like incense forever from your cult house, wizard”, Tony grumbled, though he didn’t sound like he particularly minded, an amused smirk pulling over Stephen’s face as he watched him traipse up the stairs a little more quickly than usual. The sorcerer heaved himself up from the sofa and silently padded into the kitchen, prowling around the kitchen table like a large cat before settling against the counter, watching as Harley stood in front of the open fridge like he was waiting for a fully made sandwich to smack him in the face.

“So…”, Stephen started, smirking as the teen startled a little before turning to scowl at him. “I hear you and Peter enjoyed your trip to the movies”, he purred nonchalantly, as Tony had caught him up on the later events of Sunday night while they were in the car. Harley scowled harder, like he knew exactly what Stephen was implying.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I was being a dick, alright? Tony already bit my head off about it.”

“That’s not what I meant”, Stephen replied patiently and Harley rolled his eyes, nudging the fridge door shut with his foot.

“Okay, yeah. Parker’s alright. I should be nicer to your precious spider angel boy, is that what you want to hear?”, Harley asked mockingly. 

“Yes”, the sorcerer smirked, revelling in the way the youth looked taken aback for a moment. What Stephen hadn’t expected was the way the hard set of Harley’s jaw softened as he toyed with the sleeve of his hoodie, how his baby blue eyes flickered to the floor uncomfortably as he visibly toyed with the words on his tongue. 

“I guess you’re alright too”, Harley muttered, pulling at a loose string on the cuff of his sleeve until it snapped. Stephen had to keep his mouth from hanging open in shock as all of his teasing, sly pretences dropped within the span of a second, something in his chest softening as Harley met his eyes with something other than contempt. “I mean, you saved Tony’s life and all that, and I don’t really have shit without him, so I guess I have to at least give you a chance to fuck up. I dunno. Whatever.” 

“Thanks?”, Stephen said bewilderedly, prompting a twitch of a grin from the twenty one-year-old while the sorcerer wrestled with his own thumping heart. “Though I think you have more trustworthy people in your life than you think. Maybe it’s not just Tony.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me, wizard”, Harley said with a frown, though the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. Stephen had to slide a mask over the wide grin threatening to spill onto his face, his chest warming at how much this kid sounded like Tony sometimes. He was undoubtedly his eldest child, regardless of whether they shared a single drop of blood or not. Stephen raised a hand sincerely, the other placed over his heart as he gave Harley a meaningful look tinged with amusement.

“Sorcerer’s honour.” 

*****

Tony had clomped down the stairs a few minutes later, announcing his plans for tacos which he and Stephen ended up preparing together, driving Harley out of the kitchen with a series of disgusted grumbles when they couldn’t help but exchange a kiss every two minutes. Tony’s only complaint about the situation was that Levi had attached themselves to his shoulders and adamantly refused to leave, the sorcerer smiling at seeing his relic so affectionate and protective of the most important person in his life. Stephen couldn’t have been happier, each beat of his heart a steady note of contentment, back where he was meant to be in Tony’s home, though dinner prep did take a little longer than usual. 

Peter and Morgan were dropped off about half an hour later, and Stephen discreetly slipped upstairs when Pepper came to the door. He was ashamed by his own impulse to hide, but the uncertainty of the past three days made his already shaky self-confidence concerning his place in the family almost non existent. The greeting he received when he came back downstairs was worth it, though, Peter giving him a bright smile tinged with relief that made Stephen’s heart quake, resisting the urge to pull the teen into a reassuring hug. Then there was Morgan, barreling into his arms like she hadn’t seen him in years and he lifted her up, holding her tightly as he spun her around and kissed her cheek, making her giggle with glee. She filled a hole in his heart that he had never known was there, so bright, radiant, and burning in her kindness, like a tiny, little star. Stephen looked up to meet Tony’s eyes, faced with the same gleaming smile mirrored on his daughter’s face, warming the sorcerer all the way through. His sun and his little star. 

Tacos went over well, especially with Stephen, who’s hands were grateful for the break from utensils, though there were a few complaints about the overcooked ground beef, left in the pan a little too long while Tony had been busy pressing the sorcerer up against the counter in a time-stopping kiss. They fell easily back into their old dinner-time banter and conversation, Stephen quietly marvelling at how seamlessly Harley was able to incorporate himself into their tight-knit group when he wasn’t resisting it so strongly, even exchanging a few non-hostile words with Peter. 

After dinner and a quick cleanup, Stephen sat at the kitchen table again with the company of his own racing heart. Meanwhile, Tony asked Morgan to go to the back den and show off her latest lego project, and she exuberantly lead a perplexed Harley by his hand. Kisses and overcooked ground beef weren’t the only thing Stephen and Tony had been focused on as they prepped dinner, talking in hushed tones about a very important conversation that needed to be retold in short to each of the kids. They decided to start with Peter. 

Peter looked understandably nervous once he sat across from Stephen with Tony at the head of the table between them. Stephen wanted to reach out and take his hand, possibly as a comfort to himself as well, but Tony assured the teen with a soft chuckle that he wasn’t in trouble. Taking a deep breathe of his own, Stephen managed to reiterate the condensed, emotionally-stable, Peter-specific version of his and Tony’s conversation about the 14 million realities without tearing up. Tony held one of Stephen’s hands and one of Peter’s in each of his, chiming in occasionally with gentle encouragement, but he let Stephen do most of the talking. While he talked, Stephen’s gaze flickered between Peter’s eyes and the middle distance, only grounded back into this reality by Tony’s metallic thumb gently tracing the scars on the back of his hand. Stephen met Peter’s toffee coloured, glittering gaze once he had said his piece, chest choked with emotion and lack of air as Tony squeezed the teen’s hand gently.

“Do…do you have any questions?”, Stephen asked softly, voice wavering as tears prickled at the backs of his eyes. “Anything that doesn’t make sense?” Peter shook his head, clearly struggling to hold back tears also as the weight of what the sorcerer had told him began to sunk in. 

“No. It makes sense. I just want to ask…” He continued at Stephen’s gentle nod, meeting the sorcerer’s eyes as tears started to roll down his cheeks. “I…I was your kid?”, he clarified, and Stephen’s heart broke. 

“You are”, Stephen corrected gently in a whisper. Peter’s shoulders shook in a silent sob as he stood, walking around Tony without taking his eyes off of Stephen. Peter had lost too many important people in his life to not realize how you needed to hang on to the people you still had, meeting Stephen in a crushing hug as the sorcerer stood to wrap him up in his arms. Peter sobbed heavily into Stephen’s shoulder, muffled by the thick robes he had his face pressed into, coddled by Levi as the cloak immediately flew over from Tony’s shoulders to wrap around the teen instead. Stephen held his boy gently, eyes squeezed shut as he cocooned himself around Peter’s shaking frame, trying to absorb some of his overwhelming emotion. 

He recognized the teen’s overwhelmed tears as being equal parts joy and sorrow, having already lost two father figures and nearly a third. The prospect of alternate realities backing up the close relationship they had been building was both a comfort and a terrifying realization, if only for the thought that they now had the potential to lose each other, though Stephen knew he would move space and time to keep that from ever happening. Breathing in a shuddering sigh, Stephen pressed a tear-damp kiss to Peter’s soft curls, promising in that kiss, with the strength of his arms wrapped around the boy’s slim frame, and the aching thud of his own heart that he would protect him to his dying breath. Stephen glanced over the boy’s soft mop of hair to meet Tony’s misty-eyed smile as he watched them, ducking his head a little to whisper in Peter’s ear.

“I think someone else needs a hug too.” 

Peter pulled back slowly, his brain sluggish as it drowned in emotion, meeting Stephen’s face with red eyes and flushed cheeks, all awkwardness gone as he managed to give the sorcerer a wet, lop-sided smile. He looked over his shoulder, easing out of Stephen’s arms with a quiet muttered, ‘Dad’ as Tony stood to pull him in against his chest. Tony squeezed him tightly in his arms and the sorcerer’s heart melted at the sight, losing all shape completely when Tony reached an arm out to him as well. Stephen actually hesitated for a moment before he mentally slapped himself and stepped forward to wrap his arms around them both, Peter sandwiched between his dads while Levi cocooned them all in safety. Tony’s head was pressed to Stephen’s shoulder while Peter did the same to him, the sorcerer linking one hand around Tony’s back, while the other rubbing the teen’s shoulder soothingly. Stephen sighed in relief, the most important people in his life lost in the warmth and comfort of each other for a moment of utter peace. 

Finally.

*****

They fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, Tony cradling Stephen’s head against his chest as he softly played with the sorcerer’s dark, silver-streaked hair. He would press soft kisses to that midnight and stardust hair every once in a while, muttering sweet nothings that lulled Stephen into peacefulness, soothing like the lullaby of Tony’s heart thumping soundly and steadily beside his ear. He wrapped his arm around Tony’s side, trembling fingers slowly caressing his back through the soft fabric of his t shirt while they drifted to sleep, their shared life force practically humming in contentment at being reunited after their short separation. 

“I missed you”, Tony whispered against the soft black-brown of Stephen’s hair, his cybernetic hand cradling the back of the sorcerer’s head. He had said it like ‘I love you’, and Stephen smiled sleepily, eyes closed as pressed a tender kiss to Tony’s chest where he knew his arc reactor scar was. 

“I missed you too.”

*****

Stephen woke up the next morning sometime around ten o’clock, blindly reaching out for Tony and unburying his head from his pillow when he found that the other side of the bed was cold and empty. Blinking his eyes blearily, Stephen was horrified when he checked his watch, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised by sleeping in after staying awake for three days straight. He clambered out of bed, pulling on the large house coat that he’d slowly claimed since his first night over, washing his face and brushing his teeth quickly before traipsing down the stairs. 

“Morning, Doc”, Peter greeted as the sorcerer ambled into the kitchen, looking up from his phone and a plate of scrambled eggs with a grin. Their conversation last night flooded back and Stephen smiled softly in return, grazing a hand over the teen’s messy curls as he surveyed the aftermath on the counter of several smoothies being made.

“Good morning. You’re up early for someone who’s done their exams. I see your dad’s up as well?” Peter nodded, eyeing the yogurt, kiwi and banana peel disarray with a grimace.

“Yeah, he was working on his breakfast smoothie”, the teen said with an affectionate snort. “I’m surprised the blender didn't wake everyone up, but Morgan and Harley are still sleeping. I heard Morgan sneak out of bed after you and Dad went upstairs and they were watching movies in the den until, like, midnight.”

“He’s a bad influence, that one”, Stephen muttered with feigned contempt, noticing that the coffee maker was cold and unused, something extremely unusual at this time in the Stark household. “No coffee?”, he asked Peter, pointing a finger at the pot with a quirked brow. The teen rolled his eyes in response.

“Dad’s been on a bit of health kick lately, like in the past two weeks. I have no clue what’s going on with him, but you’ve missed most of it with being busy at the Sanctum last week and then, well…Sunday night”, he added awkwardly, and Stephen nodded, quickly brushing past the anxiety rising in his chest. “I never thought I’d see him like this, but he’s kind of freaking me out, actually”, Peter muttered as he picked at his plate of eggs.

“What do you mean ‘freaking you out’?”, Stephen asked, his brow furrowing with concern as he pulled out the chair beside Peter’s and settled on to it. Peter placed his fork down with a metallic clink, running a hand through his messy hair as he frowned a little.

“I dunno, he’s cooking all of his regular things, with maybe a few more greens thrown in, but I figured that was for Morgan’s sake. Then I noticed he’s been eating a lot less at dinner, like half of what he normally eats. I asked him about it and he said he just wasn’t feeling well. But now it’s been like that every time I’ve come over for dinner.” Obviously relieved to be able to unload this information on someone, Peter’s voice tensed with worry as he went on, fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I think he’s stopped eating breakfast too.” Stephen’s brow furrowed slightly with concern, guilt intermixing with the anxiety swimming in his stomach. How had he not noticed this change in Tony’s behaviour, as drastic as it was? To be fair, he hadn’t been over for meals much in the past two weeks because of work, but he remembered vaguely noticing that Tony had limited himself to one taco last night, picking at the tortilla chips and guacamole while the boys and even Stephen tucked into a third helping.

“Where is he anyway?”, Stephen asked gently, trying to keep the tension out of his tone.

“The basement, working out”, Peter told him, eyes flickering with hope as he met the sorcerer’s face. “He’s been down there since six a.m., and I couldn’t convince him to come up. He won’t listen to me.” Stephen squeezed his shoulder reassuringly with a half grin as he stood.

“I’ll go down, see if I can bargain with him. I’ve been told I can be very persuasive.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Stephen nodded in response, padding to the basement door down the hall while attempting to quell the anxious worry in his chest as he made his way down the staircase. Pounding footsteps and the thrumming of machinery were audible as soon as he opened the door, reaching the bottom of the staircase and turning towards the workout area where several pieces of equipment were laying about, finding Tony jogging on the treadmill. He was in an old band t shirt and basketball shorts, red-faced and glistening with sweat as he forced an overly bright smile when he spotted Stephen.

“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty! Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.”

**_And there’s the deflective armour_**, Stephen thought, though he offered a returning grin.

“Sleeping beauty doesn’t like waking up on her own”, Stephen stalled with a faux pout as he analyzed the situation, walking over to stand beside the treadmill when Tony showed no sign of stopping or slowing down to talk. The sorcerer noticed that the flat screen in the corner of the room was black-screened, the distinct lack of earbuds or music of any sort, the way Tony’s water bottle was on the workout bench instead of within easy reach from the treadmill, like he was punishing himself by making exercise as unpleasant as possible. 

“Sorry, princess”, Tony panted, his smile faltering a little as he focused on his breathing. “You seemed tired, I didn’t want to wake you up early for no reason.”

“I would have gotten up to work out with you”, Stephen replied coolly, arms crossed as he eyed the speed of the treadmill on the control panel. He was waiting for Tony to give in, for him to break a little, mentally or physically, because he sure as hell wasn't going to play the game of painfully pulling the truth out of him. Tony looked uncomfortable at the offer, dialling the speed of the treadmill up a bit in response. “Maybe not for four hours, but I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to work on my cardio a bit”, Stephen continued casually, seeing the way Tony was practically squirming. 

“Don’t worry about it, Steph”, Tony gasped, arms pumping at his sides diligently as he jogged hard to keep up with the pace he had set for himself. “Why don’t you go grab some breakfast? I’ll be up in a bit.” Stephen nodded, but didn’t move, his resolve faltering a little as he noticed the way Tony’s biceps contracted as he pumped his arms with each step, appreciating the visible thrum of the muscles and tendons in his legs as he ran, looking away quickly when he found his gaze wandering upward. Not the time.

“Speaking of breakfast…”, Stephen started, and he could see Tony visibly wince. “Why have you stopped eating it?”

“Wow, Underoos is ratting me out? Low blow”, he huffed, staring straight ahead while ignoring the way his gait was faltering.

“Don’t be juvenile”, Stephen scolded gently. “He told me how you’ve been cutting back on meals, and he’s worried about your health.” He tilted his head a little in empathy, trying to catch Tony’s eye, but Tony stared ahead resolutely as he jogged, huffing in time with the sound of his sneakers thudding against the treadmill belt. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing”, Tony snapped, trying and failing to keep his voice from sounding defensive. “So, I want to eat better, so what?” Stephen didn’t say anything, though he was honestly concerned about Tony’s heart at this point. “And I haven’t been able to work out properly for a year because I’ve been in so much pain. You’re telling me I shouldn’t? Sounds like bad advice coming from a doctor.”

“Of course you can work out and eat better”, Stephen sighed, sitting down on the workout bench, preparing to catch Tony will a levitation spell as his legs almost gave out on him for the third time in the past minute. “I want you to be healthy, but you can’t starve yourself, Tony.”

“Do I look like I’m starving?!”, Tony shouted back breathlessly, slamming the stop button on the treadmill as he gradually came to a standstill, panting heavily and leaning forward on the grab rails with sweat dripping from his forehead. He straightened up after regaining his breath a little, not meeting Stephen’s eyes as he walked shakily over to the workout bench to sit down beside him with a groan. Stephen handed him the water bottle with a gently raised brow and Tony took it, still without making eye contact.

“Thanks”, he huffed, downing half of the bottle before leaning over his knees, chest still heaving as he stared at the floor. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” Stephen just shook his head, watching him with concern as he considered checking his heart rate with a spell.

“It’s fine. I’m just concerned about what you’re doing to yourself. So is Peter.”

“You two worry about me too much”, Tony said nonchalantly as he mopped his forehead with a towel, burying his face in it for a second to hide the redness as he slowly got his breath back. 

“Only because we lo- care about you so much.” Stephen’s face got about as red as Tony’s at the very near slip up, grateful when Tony decided to let it slide, though he caught a glimmer of a smirk from the other man. “And, really, Tony? I understand wanting to work out again after so long, but getting up at six a.m. to do it?” He tried a playful disbelieving look, which Tony caught as he looked away with an embarrassed grin. “That’s not the Tony Stark I know.”

“Maybe this is the new Tony Stark”, he insisted, meeting the sorcerer’s eyes with conviction, but Stephen didn’t fall for it for a second. “Hmm, gym rat Tony Stark?”

“Okay, but this is excessive. Four hours?”, Stephen asked incredulously. “You can’t go this hard right out of the gate, Tony. And Dr. Baradii said you could only use weights under twenty pounds with your cybernetic arm, at least for the next month or so.”

“Oh, that’s just a precaution”, Tony shrugged casually as he brushed him off. “And I’ve gotta get a head start on it, don’tcha think?” Stephen’s brow furrowed, shaking his head slightly

“A head start on what, Tony?”, he said, his voice softening a little. “You don’t need to gear up to save the world anymore, like you’re expecting disaster to strike at any second.” Tony sighed a little, hiding his face in his hands again as he leaned forward on his knees.

“That’s not what I meant…” Stephen regarded him patiently, wondering how long Tony would be able to pull this convoluted conversation out. He wasn’t an idiot, he just wanted to hear Tony say it, to admit that he was panicking and acting irrationally.

“Then what did you mean?”

“This!”, Tony finally exploded with frustration, gesturing at his own slightly rounded stomach. “I need to get rid of this, Stephen, before it gets out of hand, okay?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I thought you would have noticed, what with us sharing a bed and everything, but I’m not exactly as slim and trim as I used to be.”

Stephen had noticed Tony’s weight gain, of course, not that it was so drastic as Tony was making it out to be. He knew this man inside and out in nearly 14 million different ways, he’d seen him at every stage of his adult life, from a wiry twenty-something-year-old gym rat, to a stay-at-home dad in his fifties who felt comfortable enough to let himself go a bit. If he was honest, he preferred the Tony who was comfortable enough in his own skin to flaunt his emphasized curves, though Stephen realized they were still a long way off from that Tony, especially if his current insecurities about his looks were anything to go by. But Stephen realized this wasn’t the moment to mention any of this, giving him a gently reproachful look as he reached a hand out to rest on Tony’s knee. He was quietly hurt when Tony brushed him off numbly, hunching over his knees as he avoided the sorcerer’s gaze.

“I noticed”, Stephen admitted in the gentlest voice possible. “But I don’t mind, to say the least.”

“You don’t need to coddle me, Strange”, Tony growled, face still hidden in his hands in embarrassment. “Okay? I know I’m a mess right now and you’re probably disappointed compared to what you saw in all those realities.” He looked up from his hands, staring straight ahead with a relenting shrug. “Okay, I’ve always been a mess, but at least I wasn’t fat back then.” Stephen’s heart broke, hearing the self-hatred and spite in Tony’s voice as he inched closer to him on the bench. Stephen realized in that moment that this wasn’t all about Tony’s weight gain, his extra couple pounds more of a metaphor for every failure he had ever encountered in his life.

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself”, Stephen told him gently, hands trembling with the effort it took not to reach out and place a comforting hand on his arm. “You saved the universe, you were severely injured and had to go through almost a year of physiotherapy, in so much constant pain that it was physically impossible for you to work out. And now you’re berating yourself for having gained…what? Twenty pounds?”

“Twenty five”, Tony corrected quickly, voice muffled as he covered his mouth with one hand miserably. “And, yes, I did take the extra weight of my metal arm into account. But that’s only a two pound difference.”

“You realize you’ve gained muscle too, right?”, Stephen asked carefully. “Your physio isn’t just for show.” 

“Don’t doctor-splain me, Stephen”, Tony sighed, running a hand through his sweat-darkened hair. “I realize that, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I have a gut now, okay? Iron Man doesn’t have flab.”

“Maybe Iron Man can retire. In the near future”, Stephen added quickly at Tony’s borderline murderous glance. “And maybe Tony Stark is allowed to gain a bit of weight. As long as you feel good about yourself, I’ll love how you look.” Stephen blushed as he felt Tony’s gaze on him at his words, looking away quickly to focus on his trembling hands in his lap. “Some extra weight…or a few scars…that doesn’t matter to me, I hope you know that.”

“You’re saying that, but-.”

“Anthony, I keep telling you that I think you’re beautiful, okay?”, Stephen pleaded desperately. “It’s fine if you don’t believe me, but don’t try to convince me to change my mind, because it’s not going to happen.” Tony blushed deeply as he looked away, shoulders tense while he set his jaw stubbornly. Stephen decided to pull out the heavy artillery.  “Darling, please look at me.” Tony turned to meet the sorcerer’s face with those big Bambi eyes, unguarded for once as he was completely disarmed by the rare pet name, though his body language was still closed off. “You don’t have to believe me yet”, Stephen muttered softly. “And that’s okay, but you do need to be more gentle with yourself. Please?”

“Well…”, Tony relented with a flicker of a smile. “Since you asked nicely.” Stephen nodded, reaching his hand out carefully, relieved when Tony took it, squeezing the sorcerer’s trembling hand in his metallic one gently. 

“Come here”, Stephen said, desperate to show Tony how loved he was despite all of his supposed downfalls, pulling him forward gently by his hand, meeting his lips with a soft sigh. The sorcerer could feel the tension in Tony’s body began to dissolve as he kissed him slowly over and over, pressing their lips together tenderly in a way that made Stephen’s lower spine tingle pleasantly. They pulled back after several minutes, and now that Tony had an exhausted, content smile on his face, they both agreed that a hot shower and a good breakfast were in order. 

*****

“What about this one?”

Tony stepped out of his master suite, arms raised from his sides as he spun in front of his floor-to-ceiling mirror for what felt like the thousandth time, earning yet another noncommittal shrug from Happy who was more concerned with booking a hotel on his phone for a trip he and May were planning.

“I liked the last suit better than that teal monstrosity”, Rhodey said, head propped up in one hand as he lay sideways across the foot of Tony’s bed, picking at the mostly empty plate of cheese and crackers they’d been snacking on while going through Tony’s closet. “You’re gonna blind the poor guy if you show up in that thing.” Tony looked down at the suit, utterly perplexed.

“How? You said the last one looked like a gelato stand threw up on me.”

“Exactly”, Rhodey said pointedly. Tony sighed heavily. It was Friday afternoon, his date with Stephen was in exactly three hours, and he had no clue what he was going to wear. Usually elated and relieved when thinking about spending time with the sorcerer, Tony now found himself a bundle of nerves while he perused his closet uselessly for the dozenth time. Like he’d mentioned while asking Stephen out, they had yet to go on an actual date, as they could hardly count the lunch get-togethers in the past year where they’d had to sneak around behind Pepper’s back. In a fit of desperate anxiety, he had called Rhodey and Happy over to help him decide on an outfit, but to no avail.

“I’m trying on that burgundy vest again”, Tony stated, not waiting for a response as he disappeared into the en suite, ridding himself of the ‘teal monstrosity’ and putting it back on the hanger. He made the mistake of glancing in the mirror, his confidence plummeting as he did, freezing as he stared at his own reflection with distaste. Dark, rugged scar tissue ran up the entire right side of his body in a streaky patchwork of flesh that reminded Tony of raw meat, frowning heavily as his eyes traced the scars down from his face to his body. He had gotten softer, there was no doubting it, as many of his close-fitting dress shirts had attested to. Despite Stephen’s kind, reassuring words yesterday, Tony knew it was going to take a lot for him to see his own body the same way, what with all the changes it had gone through in the past year. Sighing quietly, he buttoned up the vest and immediately decided against it, hating the way the slight swell of his stomach was made even more definitive under the fitted vest. Feeling defeated, he walked back out of the bathroom in just a t shirt and his boxers, meeting Rhodey’s surprised look miserably.

“This is pointless”, Tony informed his friend, snarling at his own reflection in the mirror. “Nothing looks good on me anymore.” Rhodey frowned as he came to stand beside him, looking back at their own reflections, though his friend’s well-muscled frame in contrast did nothing for Tony’s confidence.

“Don’t be a drama queen, you’re the jackass who looks good in whatever he throws on.” 

“Oh, yeah?”, Tony asked skeptically, picking up a jacket that was one of the many scattered around the room. “What about this, then?”

“You’ve already tried that one on, Boss. Twice”, FRIDAY informed him levelly, though her lilt revealed a hint of chiding amusement that shouldn’t have been possible in an AI. Tony raised a brow.

“Verdict?”

“Colonel Rhodes said, and I quote, ‘The blue is too blue’.” Tony sighed heavily at the AI’s words, giving Rhodey a pointed look.

“See? This isn’t helping. You’re too opinionated without making an sense. And you.” Tony jabbed a finger in Happy’s direction. “You don’t have any opinion at all.” Happy was about to respond but Tony spun around before he could answer, staring the mirror down again. “What am I even doing?”

“Having a breakdown, that’s what you’re doing”, Rhodey said with an amused smirk, arms crossed as he met Tony’s glare steadily. Tony just shook his head, straightening the front of his t shirt down anxiously.

“I’m nervous, Rhodey. Why am I nervous? I’ve already gone on like a hundred lunch dates with him, why do I feel like I’m going to throw up?”

“Because he matters, that’s why”, the colonel informed him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and okay, maybe it was. “You already know he’d die for you, he’s not going anywhere. Just chill a bit and everything will be fine.” Rhodey frowned as Tony smacked him on the arm.

“Don’t say that. Don’t remind me of what he did like that.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Tony paused, squinting at the mirror again. “Should I have coloured my hair? It’s too late now, isn’t it? But I probably should have.”

“I’m actually digging the silver, Tones”, Rhodey admitted, with a distracted mumble of agreement from Happy as he tapped away on his tablet. Tony looked between them, a hand reaching up to play with his hair self-consciously. 

“Yeah? You don’t think it makes me look too old? Who am I kidding? I do look old, I am old.”

“You’re an old drama queen”, Rhodey agreed teasingly, but something in his face softened as he wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “Listen. Yes, you’re grey when you don’t dye your hair like the big, vain gay that you are.” Tony frowned until Rhodey squeezed his shoulders gently. “But it looks good, okay, handsome? Rock it, own it. You know that wizard will be making heart eyes at you no matter how you look. He’s so freaking whipped, I swear.” Tony felt his cheeks heat up as he dipped his head with a chuckle, nudging Rhodey’s side bashfully. 

“He’s not”, Tony muttered, though he knew denying it was useless. “He’s just a sweetheart.”

“Okay, I’ll agree with you on that one”, Rhodey said with an eye roll. “But as sweet as he is, I think he’d like you to show up in something other than your skivvies.”

“How?”, Tony demanded. “You’ve shot down half of the clothes I own and the other half is too small now for my fat ass.” Tony was planning to flop onto the bed dramatically when he suddenly found Happy on his other side, staring him down steadfastly via their reflections in the mirror.

“Okay, listen to me”, Happy said sternly in his ‘head-of-security’ voice. “We don’t have time to go shopping for something new, but I can help you find something that will work with your weight better. Rhodey, get out. You’re of no help, you’re too practical.”

“Rude”, Rhodey commented, but left the room with a shrug, taking the rest of the cheese plate with him. Tony had to bite down hard on the feeling of tears prickling at the backs of his eyes, looking up to meet Happy’s face with a grateful grin.

“Thanks, Hap. I don’t know what I do without you”, he teased, nudging his side as Happy gave him a soft smile in return.

“Always, boss.”

*****

Stephen stared into his closet with growing anxiety, dripping wet from his shower with a towel around his waist, frozen in place as he perused his limited wardrobe. He hadn’t gone on a real date with anyone for…well, since Christine. And he certainly didn’t have the array of suits and other outfits he’d owned back then, glowering at the one nice pair of pants he had, but not knowing what to put with them that wouldn't make him look like some sort of semi-formal hippie. His watch told him that he had less than an hour before he had to go pick Tony up, and he cursed himself out silently for leaving this part of his date preparation to the last second. Most of the time, he didn’t give a second of extra thought to his appearance or what he wore, usually either in his combat robes or jeans and a cardigan whenever he left the Sanctum. Obviously, neither of those options would work for a date, and of course he wanted to look nice for Tony, as much as he would never admit it out loud. 

**_Tony’s going to show up dressed to the nines and I’m going to look like a bean pole hobo_**, Stephen thought darkly, regarding his reflection in the half mirror he had on the wall. 

Even with months of physio, working out, and training with Wong, he had barely gained half of the muscle back that he’d had before giving up his life force. He’d been able to gain a little weight, especially in the past few months, but his body had never been particularly prone to gaining or keeping fat and muscle, making him extremely self conscious of the lost weight in his face especially and the lankiness of his limbs. Lost in his own thoughts, Stephen nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of Wong out of the corner of his eye, holding his towel to ensure it stayed up and hurriedly covering his chest with his other hand. 

“For Oshtur’s sake! What are you doing there? Why are you in my room?” Wong didn’t seem too perturbed at seeing Stephen in nothing but a towel, calmly eyeing the puddle of water at the Sorcerer Supreme’s feet.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“I don’t know”, Stephen muttered in embarrassment, shrugging as he attempted to cover the worst of his scars with one hand, though they were nothing that Wong hadn’t seen before.

“Isn’t your date with Stark at six?” Stephen just nodded quietly, avoiding eye contact as he felt more than naked under Wong’s discerning gaze. “What are you wearing?”

“Do I look like I know?”, Stephen growled, pointing to the cloak floating guiltily in the corner. “Levi has tried helping but their only suggestion so far is that I wear them and nothing else.”

“Maybe a bit much for a first date”, Wong remarked dryly.

“My thoughts exactly”, Stephen agreed, brow furrowing in confusion as Wong stepped forward to glance through Stephen’s closet. “Forgive me if I don’t trust your advice as a fashion consultant. No offence, but-.”

“Quiet”, Wong snapped, shoving a black turtleneck at him. “Try this and those grey heather dress pants. And the black shoes.” Stephen opened his mouth to protest, but Wong just shoved the clothes at his chest and then pushed him towards the bathroom. “I said quiet. Go.” Stephen did as he was told, though begrudgingly as he grabbed a pair of boxers and went into the bathroom. He changed quickly, struggling with the button of the pants for several minutes as his hands shook with their usual nerves and added anxiety. This was why he usually wore harem pants and robes. No buttons or zippers meant no extra pain for his already sensitive hands. Regardless, Stephen had to admit he was almost pleased with his appearance once he walked back out to the mirror, even gaining an approving eyebrow raise from Wong. Yes, he was still skinny and lanky beyond belief, but the turtleneck wasn’t so tight-fitting as to accentuate his slim frame, instead playing up the small amount of bulk he had been able to regain.

“Turn”, Wong demanded, still eyeing him. Stephen gave him an exasperated look, protesting weakly.

“I’m not-.”

“Turn.” Sighing, Stephen held his arms out for show and turned in a slow circle, meeting Wong’s face again as he tried to gauge his friend’s reaction. Seemingly pleased with his handiwork, Wong actually smirked a little as he tossed Stephen’s sling ring to him. “It’ll do. Don’t forget this. Just in case.”

“We’re not expecting any inter dimensional creatures on this date, but thanks. And for helping me.” Wong just shook his head, though his expression may have softened slightly.

“Don’t thank me, just don’t get into trouble tonight.”

“I can’t make any promises”, Stephen grinned, slipping his sling ring into his pocket as Wong walked out of the room and back down the stairs, chuckling to himself. Stephen went back to the bathroom to do his hair, fussing with it for about twenty minutes longer than usual, and then cursing his hands for hurting more than usual as he used a spell to hold his toothbrush. Staring back at himself in the mirror, he tapped his fingers against his arc reactor pendant quickly before snapping the watch bracelet Tony made him onto his wrist, its slight weight comforting. Stepping out of the bathroom, he sat on the end of his bed to pull the shoes on which luckily lacked laces, sighing a little as he felt Levi hovering anxiously near his shoulder.

“You’re not coming tonight. No, don’t give me that look”, Stephen scolded gently when the cloak’s collar drooped pathetically, brushing his fingers against the soft fabric in a comforting gesture. “It’s just dinner, okay? We’re not going to be getting into anything dangerous, no matter what you and Wong may think.” He stood and slid his sling ring on, holding one finger up at the cloak. “Stay”, he commanded gently, smirking when Levi floated dejectedly to their preferred place by the window to brood, and Stephen opened a gateway to the front lawn of the Stark cabin. His heart was pounding steadily in his chest, anxiety building before his chest was swamped with the honey-sweet warmth of Tony’s half of the life force, looking up to see him seated on the front porch with Happy, Rhodey, and Morgan.

“There he is!”, Tony grinned as he spotted the sorcerer, standing from his chair and taking Stephen’s breath away. The porch lights were on, a golden glow in the slowly gathering dusk, but they were nothing compared to the brightness of Tony’s smile, his eyes lit up and sparkling as he hurried down the porch steps to meet Stephen. Burgundy pants hugged his thighs comfortably with each step, offset by a dark denim blue blazer altered to accommodate his cybernetic arm, and left unbuttoned to show the light blue t shirt which showed off his new weight subtly. Stephen was absolutely mesmerized, stopped dead as Tony sashayed up to him with his arms wide, eyes glittering in the low light. Stephen’s eye was caught by his gold Eye of Agomotto pendant sparkling dully at his throat, matching the thin wire frames of his glasses, and his heart started again as Tony’s arms wrapped around his waist solidly. 

“Look at you, you’re so beautiful”, Stephen managed to get out with a soft smile, shaking hands automatically resting on Tony’s broad shoulders, and Tony looked away with a bashful grin. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“I was thinking the same thing, gorgeous”, Tony muttered, surprising Stephen a little when he didn’t have to stand on tiptoe to meet the sorcerer’s lips. 

**_Ah_**, Stephen though. **_Lifts._** But his brain didn’t have much time to dwell on footwear as Tony’s soft lips pressed against his, kissing him deeply while his hands gently caressed Stephen’s back. Stephen’s cheeks warmed a little as he heard a series of amused mumbles from the porch, knowing Happy and Rhodey were watching but not caring as he was lost in Tony’s touch, their chests pressed together in a subconscious attempt to keep their life force as close together as possible. In doing so, Stephen felt a familiar wedge of metal pressed between their breastbones, pulling back a little as he slid a hand between them to tap on it gently.

“Do you think we’ll be needing that?””, he muttered against Tony’s lips, voice low as he raised an eyebrow, looking into vaguely guilty brown and blue eyes. 

“I don’t know, probably not. I just want to be careful, okay? I can’t lose you”, Tony whispered, his fingertips playing with Stephen’s pendant softly. Stephen’s heart practically melted as he pressed another soft kiss against Tony’s mouth, feeling his smile under his lips. “Don’t tell Rhodey.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”, Stephen rumbled quietly as they pulled apart, walking back up the porch steps side by side. Rhodey raised an amused brow in greeting.

“Hey, Stephen. Look at you two necking like a bunch of teenagers, sheesh”, he grinned, making Stephen squirm in embarrassment while Tony squeezed his hand gently.

“Don’t say that in front of the kid”, Happy growled at Rhodey, covering Morgan’s ears, though she was happily colouring while seated beside him on the porch swing, only looking up when she noticed Stephen.

“Doc!”, she squeaked, almost falling flat on her face in her haste to climb off the porch swing, slipping out of Happy’s grasp as he tried to help her, but she managed to right herself. Stephen’s heart was soaring as she ran to him, stopping to scoop her up in his arms while she wrapped her little arms around his neck to help his hands in lifting her.

“How’s Miss Morgan?”, he asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek, feeling Tony’s warm gaze as he watched them with a smile. 

“Good! I’m colouring!”, she grinned, then leaned in like she had a secret, whispering loudly in his ear. “You and Daddy are going on a date?” From the look on Tony’s face, he could definitely hear her, but Stephen leaned his cheek against hers like they were exchanging top secret information.

“Yes, that’s right. You’re okay with that?”, he whispered back, and Morgan nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Good. Daddy was sad today, so you can make him happy?” Stephen smiled gently as he met her eyes, big and brown like Tony’s before his Snap and he wasn’t sure how his heart was handling this much love.

“I’ll try my best”, he assured her quietly. Satisfied with his answer, Morgan returned his cheek kiss and he set her back down so she could go and clamber onto Happy’s lap, showing him her purple giraffe she was working on. Stephen was surprised but relieved when Happy met his eyes quickly with an approving nod, returning his warm smile as Tony linked his arm in the sorcerer’s.

“We should get going. We don’t want to get caught in portal traffic”, Tony grinned, snickering when Stephen nudged him in the side gently.

“Okay”, Rhodey, said, standing from his chair as he looked between them. “Have fun, kids, and no drugs”, he cautioned in an affected voice, before his eyes landed on Stephen alone. “Try to bring our boy back in one piece this time, eh, Doc?” Stephen wasn’t prepared for the assault of emotion this comment elicited, actually taking a step back as memories of Tony’s Snap and their fight with the snake creature in Greenwich bombarded his chest. Rhodey noticed the hurt, fearful look in his eyes and immediately stepped forward with an apologetic grimace, shocking Stephen further by pulling him into a gentle hug.

“Careful with him, Rhodey. He’s delicate”, Tony muttered, and Stephen could hear the concern in his voice under the light joking tone, knowing he didn’t mean that the sorcerer was physically delicate.

“Oh, jeez. I’m sorry, Stephen”, Rhodey said remorsefully. “I was kidding, I didn’t mean it like that.” He patted his back gently, and Stephen felt himself relax marginally in the colonel’s sturdy embrace.

“It’s okay”, Stephen choked out, feeling Tony’s gentle tug on Rhodey’s arm.

“C’mon, Rhodester, give me my wizard back”, Tony whined, earning a playful smirk from Rhodey as he pulled back, accepting his obligatory cheek kiss. “And thanks for looking after the pumpkin seed, platypus.” He looked to the man who’s full attention was taken by his daughter. “You too, Hap. Be good, Moguna!” Morgan barely glanced up from leafing through her colouring book with Happy. 

“Bye, Daddy.”

“I’ve been replaced”, Tony remarked with a rueful grin, taking Stephen’s hand as they turned to leave.

“You can’t say stuff like that, especially in front of Morgan”, Stephen heard Happy mutter to the colonel grumpily as he and Tony walked down the porch steps. 

“I know, I know”, Rhodey said, his annoyed tone barely concealing the note of shame in his voice. “It was supposed to be a joke.” Tony must have noticed the uncomfortable look on Stephen’s face, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as the sorcerer opened a gateway shakily. His anxiety started to dissolve as they stepped through the sparking bronze ring and onto the sidewalk in front of the Sanctum, their predetermined gateway location since Tony wanted the restaurant to be a surprise.

“Look, I’m sorry about that back there. I shouldn’t have reacted li-.” Stephen was cut off as Tony pulled him down into a crushing kiss, making the sorcerer blush heavily as they stood in the darkening street, Tony’s arms wrapped around his waist protectively, pulling him closer by a belt loop. Once Stephen was sure he was about to pass out, Tony pulled back, pupils blown wide as he looked up into Stephen’s eyes.

“Don’t apologize. And don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about any of it.” He offered Stephen his good hand again. “Let’s just enjoy right now.” Stephen nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand thankfully as they set off down Bleecker Street, dawn seeping over the streets as lights flickered to life through the city. 

“So, where are you taking me?”, Stephen asked, feeling his own smile widen involuntarily at Tony’s playfully grin, absolutely radiant in his joy.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Merlin? It’s a surprise, that’s the whole point. I’m taking you out, you don’t get to know where we’re going.” Stephen chuckled, shaking his head a little as they walked hand in hand.

“Well, it’s never been like that on any of the dates I’ve been on.” Tony quirked a brow, geninunely interested as he turned to meet Stephen’s eyes as they walked.

“Yeah? And what have the dates you’ve been on been like?” Stephen was thrown off by the question, his smile faltering a little as he looked down at his own shoes, because that was easier than meeting the vibrant, intelligent intensity of Tony’s eyes. 

“Oh, you know. Went on a few in college, though most of those were in the library or cafeteria.” Tony grimaced with empathy, as if he’d have similar experiences before raising a brow expectantly, prompting Stephen to continue. “Well, I didn’t have much time to date in med school, as you’d expect, and then once I started working I still didn’t have a lot of energy to devote to maintaining much of a love life. Besides Christine, I guess”, he hastened to add, then immediately questioned why he had done that.

“So, what you’re saying is that this is already the best date you’ve ever been on?”, Tony asked cheekily, grinning widely. 

“Only because it’s with you. Though I still don’t know where you’re taking me.”

“You big sap”, Tony grumbled, though he obviously enjoyed the compliment. “And we’re here, anyway”, he said, pointing at the quirky restaurant front they’d stopped in front of. The sign read ‘Ghandi Cafe’ and Stephen immediately recognized the name as what Wong claimed to be one of the best Indian restaurants in New York. It was a cozy nook of a building tucked away and barely visible from the street at certain angles, the last place you’d think Tony Stark would be caught dead in. But here he was holding the front door open for Stephen with a flourishing bow, and Stephen could feel his heart overcome with love at realizing that Tony had picked this place specifically for him, to match the sorcerer’s tastes and so he would be more comfortable as opposed to some high-end restaurant. 

“Thank you”, Stephen muttered, slightly flustered as he walked through the doorway with Tony close behind him, a gentle hand on the small of Stephen’s back as he flashed his signature grin at the hostess who greeted them.

“Reservation for Strange”, Tony told the hostess before turning back to Stephen. “Sorry I used your name, I should have asked you. But people usually get wind of me showing up at a restaurant, and I thought I’d save us the hassle of amateur paparazzi.”

“No, yeah, of course. I-it’s fine”, Stephen stuttered out, not offended in the least, but unable to comprehend how Tony using his last name made him feel. His heart rate was certainly doubled, Tony’s hand in his the only thing leading him forward as the hostess showed them to their table. Tony surprised him once again by letting go of Stephen’s hand and stepping in front of him to pull the sorcerer’s chair out with a lavish grin. 

“Darling”, Tony teased as Stephen took a seat with an unmistakable blush, only intensified as Tony grazed his fingers across the sorcerer’s shoulders as he walked around the table to sit in his own chair. The hostess handed them their menus with a knowing look that said she’d had plenty of experience with lovey dovey couples, taking their drink orders and assuring them that their server would be by shortly. Tony thanked her with another slightly fake, too bright grin, the contrast even more stark when he looked back at Stephen and his eyes and face softened into a real smile.

“Look at you, red as a tomato”, he teased, flipping open his menu.

“You’re ridiculous”, Stephen muttered affectionately, cheeks still very pink as he pretended to concentrate very hard on his own menu. “You’d think I was the one who saved the universe or something, the way you’re carrying on.”

“You deserve to be treated well”, Tony insisted airily. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He perused the menu, closing it definitively after a few moments before glancing around the room which was a train car-style space with red velvet wallpaper, quickly distracted by the chandelier above their table. “Ritzy place. I’m kind of spazzing out over the decor”, he commented idly.

“You picked it”, Stephen pointed out. “But Wong says their chicken tikka masala is to die for, not that he used those exact words.” Stephen glanced over the menu once more before setting it down, meeting Tony’s eyes as he leaned forward on the table a bit, admiring the way the low, golden light made his smile seem even brighter, playing with the silver of his hair and the stubble that was steadily growing back. Overwhelmed in the moment, Stephen looked down with a quiet grin, playing with his watch before he spoke. “Thank you for this, Tony. Really.”

“Stop thanking me”, Tony scolded playfully. “Or I’ll kiss you”, he threatened, not able to keep a straight face as their server came with their drinks and took their orders. Tony had a cranberry ginger ale while Stephen treated himself to a wine cooler, a rare indulgence (possibly an old, anxious habit), though Tony didn’t comment on it. 

After that, conversation quickly trickled back onto the topic of past dates, though Stephen was relieved when there were no questions asked about previous relationships. They competed as to who had had the worst date in college, Tony red-faced and giggling from the dating mishap horror stories they both told by the time the server came with their food. Stephen had ordered kaali daal with naan bread and a vegetable side dish, once again grateful for Tony’s choice of restaurant as it was all finger food, saving his severely aching hands the painful hassle of navigating cutlery. Tony had in fact gotten the chicken tikka masala, dramatically declaring that Wong’s taste in food was exquisite and he would follow the man into battle, making them both falter for a second before Tony dissolved into a fit of giggles again.

“Are you sure there isn’t alcohol in this?”, Stephen teased as he reached across the table and took a sip of Tony’s drink. “Mmm, no. Just ginger ale”, he concluded, chuckling as Tony smacked at his arm playfully. 

“Don’t mess with me, asshole. I’ve been sober almost eleven years now”, Tony stated somewhat proudly before his face fell a little. “Even through the whole…you know”, he gestured vaguely, referring to the five years after the first Snap. They had never talked about that time, even after a whole year, though Stephen had been more than tempted to during those first few days in the Wakandan hospital, which now felt like a lifetime ago. **_Did you mourn me? Did I ever cross your mind?_** But it wasn’t something you asked, maybe because most people didn’t come back from the dead, but he still wondered sometimes. 

“That’s extremely admirable”, Stephen said instead. “I don’t think I would have been that strong if I were in your position”, he muttered, reminded distinctly of the half bottle of gin he’d consumed over the course of Monday night when he thought his world was falling apart. 

“I wasn’t strong”, Tony admitted hoarsely. “I was a mess. I’d just lost you and the kid-.” He cut himself off and Stephen felt guilty for somehow starting this conversation, though his head was swimming with the new knowledge that Tony had thought of him in those five years, but it didn’t feel quite as gratifying as it might have several months ago. “Thank god Morgan came along, or I don’t know what I would have done with myself.”

This sentence was a grateful leeway into a conversation about kids, as Stephen casually asked if Tony had always wanted kids, though he more than knew thanks to his amassed knowledge from the 14 million realities. It was one of the downfalls, he supposed, of knowing so much about Tony that there was very little he could ask and be completely surprised by the answer. Despite this, Tony still managed to take his breath away by asking if he had ever thought of having kids, causing the sorcerer to almost choke on a piece of naan bread. He managed to compose himself with a sip of water before admitting that kids had never really been a consideration, for the same reason that he’d never had much time for dating. This earned a skeptical but knowing look from Tony, and a quick compliment about how good he was with Morgan, Peter, and even Harley despite this. Stephen admitted that he had a bit of an unfair advantage when it came to the kids in that he already spent many lifetimes with them in his own mind. Tony got really quiet for a second and then asked if Stephen would tell him about some of the realities with Peter, where he had been their kid millions of times over. 

Stephen almost shuddered with the relief of being able to share some of those beautiful realities instead of having to hide them away in his heart, as if they were something dark and terrible. Now, he watched as Tony’s eyes lit up while he recounted some of his favourite memories from the 14 million, ones where they had adopted Peter as a baby, struggling through new parenthood together. Tony laughed at some of their misadventures with an infant Peter, and other times he teared up as he listened to the sorcerer’s soothing baritone softening, his calm green eyes inhabiting a far away look as he told him about late night feedings, Peter’s first steps, all the times Peter would come crawling into their bed after a nightmare well into his childhood. He told him about one of the many realities where they had met Peter at the tender age of fifteen, having just lost his aunt and uncle in a horrific accident. This is where Stephen teared up, remembering the terrified teenage boy who had latched onto them both so desperately, terrified to lose them too, but needing them so badly. Then he decided to tell Tony about other realities very similar to their current one, with the exception that they had already been married for decades when Peter stumbled into their lives, still under the guardianship of May, but eager to be mentored under the two tired, veteran superheroes. This earned a few chuckles as Tony listened to the stories of their bright-eyed kid tagging along with his disgruntled, old married couple pseudo fathers, and these realities somehow luckily excluded the events of the Titan battle more often than not. 

After a year of knowing each other, Stephen thought that they might have run out of new things to talk about, but especially after his recent reveal of what the 14 million realities actually consisted of, he felt like he and Tony could never get sick of talking with each other. He loved telling stories and seeing Tony’s eyes sparkle like they did, smiling his beautiful smile, his laugh like the sweetest music Stephen had ever heard, not able to help himself as he reached a hand across the table to lay a gently shaking hand on Tony’s good hand. Their eyes met and something unequivocally vulnerable flickered through Tony’s, a moment of intense trust before his gaze flickered away with a self-conscious grin. Stephen kept his hand where it was and their conversation turned to favourite foods as they ate, the sorcerer’s thumb softly, tenderly brushing the back of Tony’s as he listened to him talk. Save for holding Christine’s hand under running water after the Ancient One’s death, it was the first time since his accident that Stephen had voluntarily initiated touching someone else’s hand. 

They finished eating, their server offering the dessert menu and Stephen watched the flicker of uncertainty ground itself on Tony’s face while the sorcerer took the menu. It took some convincing, but Tony finally relented and they both indulged in a masala chai creme brûlée and a piece of cheesecake, splitting both and feeding each other more often than not, giggling between themselves like a bunch of teenagers. Stephen was fairly sure his heart stopped for a few beats when Tony leaned forward and gently wiped a bit of cheesecake off of the corner of the sorcerer’s mouth, maintaining eye contact as he casually sucked the morsel off his own thumb. 

Tony paid for their meal, of course, seeing as he had done the asking out in the first place, but Stephen wondered how guilty he would end up feeling over time if Tony was the one always paying for their dates. During his time as a neurosurgeon, Stephen had become decidedly accustomed to a certain lifestyle, and though the simplicity of life of Kamar Taj had been a pleasant breath of fresh air, there was no denying how utterly broke he now was. But, for the moment at least, he brushed aside his own awkward discomfort regarding money and focused on the gorgeous, kind man once again holding the door open for him with a heart-warming grin.

*****

“Vincent? Really? Your middle name is Vincent?”

“Hey, lay off. It’s not any worse than Edward”, Stephen defend himself with a bark of laughter.

“Oh, I know. Edward is terrible.” Tony rolled his eyes, but then grinned impishly. “But Vincent? That’s even more pretentious than I thought it would be.”

Stephen scoffed. “Okay, Edward.”

Tony didn’t respond, shaking his head quietly to himself as they walked side by side, his hand in it’s usual place on the small of Stephen’s back. Strolling through the dark, lamp-lit street, they enjoyed the silence of each other’s company, and Stephen was beyond content as he wrapped an arm around the side of Tony’s waist in turn. They walked close together, almost leaning on each other as Tony’s hand drifted from Stephen’s lower back to his hip, and from the light placement of his hand there, Stephen was reminded that the sensitivity of Tony’s cybernetic arm had been increased recently now that he was healed from his surgery completely. His newfound fine-tuned nerve control meant the silicon pads of his fingertips moved along the sorcerer’s hip with precise pressure, sliding down to rest in the back pocket of Stephen’s pants. A light blush played over Stephen’s cheeks, and his grip must have tightened involuntarily as Tony looked at him with a quiet grin. They walked all the way back to the Sanctum this way, Stephen trying to remember how to walk and breathe at the same time as Tony’s strong, metallic hand stayed firmly wedged in his back right pocket. 

*****

Tony lacked a plan more times than most people would probably be comfortable with realizing, considering the amount of life-threatening situations he had been responsible for and dived headlong into. But he was an expert at improvising on the fly, building what he needed from seemingly useless scraps, constructing equipment and a convoluted plan pieced together from the dredges of the situation and his own past experiences, duct taped together with his speed-rocketing intelligence and charming wit.

So, it was less than surprising when Tony realized that he didn’t have a plan when he asked whether Stephen was going to invite him into the Sanctum or not. There hadn’t been any predetermined agenda floating around his mind while he walked through those ridiculously ornate doors, watching in quiet awe as Stephen lit their way through the foyer with a snap of his fingers and a glowing orb of light levitating above them, like one of those paper lanterns that people let go into the sky during times of celebration. Now, it lit their way up the grand main staircase in an ominous, but warm glow, illuminating Stephen’s face in a way that accentuated his cheekbones and Tony let himself stare just a little. 

The man was intoxicating, really, like a spot of black ink jagged and dangerous in its ability to alter the flat, stark white surface of a page. There was an obsidian panther hidden in his voice and movements, smooth and rumbling like distant thunder, and his eyes were sharp shards of beach glass until they fell on Tony. And it was their jade and azure softening that made Tony’s heart melt, left his blood racing in juxtaposing warmth as he was consumed by the soothing comfort of Stephen’s half of the life force. But more attractive than any physical feature was the sorcerer’s innate kindness. He was so kind, not just to Tony but to everyone in their little, mismatched family. Tony had never met someone with such a capacity for goodness, stifled occasionally by his vast amounts of trauma, but Stephen managed to press past it most of the time, leaving Tony feeling revered and loved like he never had.

And Tony might have been content forever to bask in Stephen’s kindness, his humour, his fast-paced intelligence which occasionally rivalled Tony’s, softly held hands, tender kisses, and warm hugs. But then there would be a flicker of something else, breaking through that soothing lull more often now as they were finally allowed the safety of one another. Now that Tony could have the painless euphoria of the sorcerer’s mere presence, guaranteed to each other in their building, unconditional trust and dependence, and now that he had the knowledge of millions of realities where they had been each other’s everything, he wanted Stephen in other ways, in every way that the man would give himself up to. It was only the insane amount of trust he had in the sorcerer which allowed Tony to even consider taking the next step, as his years of issues with physical touch, emotional abuse, and manipulation should have encouraged him to steer clear of intimate situations for the rest of his life. But something in Tony’s mind insisted relentlessly that it was okay, because it was _Stephen_.

They had been trickling along almost painfully through the normal stages of a romantic relationship simply because this was no ordinary relationship. There was too much damage, too many trust issues and insecurities, too much that they had had to work through just to get to this point. Not to mention the codependency of their shared life force, Tony’s recently ended marriage, and the knowledge of over fourteen million realities which had only recently been shared between them both. Because of these and still many other reasons, there would be no rushing into anything irrationally, which just so happened to be Tony’s specialty. He knew what he wanted, and that was usually enough for him to give himself the green light, but he would never want to scare Stephen off after spending so long building their trust in one another, especially since the deceivingly sensitive sorcerer was still convinced that Tony was going to abandon him at the slightest ripple in their relationship. 

Emotional damage aside, there was also the painfully obvious insecurities they both had about their own physical appearance, though they had both been exuding fake cockiness and self-assurance once upon a time. But Tony could forget about his own self-consciousness if it only meant he could assure Stephen as to how truly beautiful he thought he was, how much he could worship every inch of his six foot frame, drown him in lavish touch if only he would allow him to. Yes, they’d spent the night in the same bed, practically wrapped around each other and as close as they could physically get, but Tony was ready to offer more. As good as he was at brushing off the sorcerer’s compliments directed at him, Tony wanted nothing more than to shower him in praise that he more than deserved, astounding and ethereal in his mere existence, but Tony had never been the most adept at communicating emotions, specifically those of a complex, personal nature.

While Tony tried to ignore the kaleidoscope of complex emotions jumbled in his mind, they headed towards the second floor kitchenette under the pretence of having a (nonalcoholic) nightcap, but somehow ended up in the lounge by the large windows overlooking the street below. Tony steadily ignored the deceivingly beautiful pinpricks of lights splattered across the endless swathe of ebony, instead focusing on those clear ocean eyes that pulled him in relentlessly like the daily tide. He watched as Stephen turned to extinguish the glowing orb, instead redistributing the light to the lantern-like scones scattered about on the hardwood pillars, basking the entire lounge in low, golden light. Tony let himself sit back against the ridiculous amount of pillows on the massive, faded velvet sofa, each one decorated with a different pattern or type of embroidery, playing with a tassel idly as he eyed the sorcerer with a sly grin.

“Would you like a drink?”, Stephen offered, cheeks flushing a little under Tony’s openly appreciative gaze. “I promise I have something other than tea.”

“I’d like to kiss you”, Tony said as casually as possible despite his steadily thrumming heart, inching forward on the sofa when Stephen responded with a shy smile and shifted toward him. Tony remained laying back against the mountain of pillows, letting Stephen come to him and looking up into his soft, sea glass with a small smile, heart beating in his chest steadily. He felt vulnerable as the large sorcerer leaned over him, but in a grounded, safe way as Stephen leaned down to meet his lips with all the tenderness in the world, treating Tony like a crystal doll like he always did. A soft shiver coursed through Tony’s body as Stephen lifted his shaking, gentle fingers to trace Tony’s jaw, caressing the scarred side of his face like it was even more precious to him because of the scars, not despite them. Tony was always floored by the indescribable lightness that floated through his limbs when the sorcerer did this, shocked by the feather light touch coming from powerful, magic-wielding hands on his own damaged skin that he had never seen as anything other than hideous. 

Suddenly overcome with effervescent gratitude, Tony kissed Stephen back deeply, leading him by his mouth up into a sitting position. Like before, he didn’t have much of a plan when it came to what was going to happen next, straddling one of the sorcerer’s thighs and prompting a deep hum from Stephen as he pressed his tongue past his lips, hot and longing. Tony gasped a little in Stephen’s mouth as he felt his large, trembling hands come to rest low on his waist, gratification swelling in his chest at the contact which he would usually have to prompt from the reserved sorcerer. Tony’s hands found their way into Stephen’s thick, dark, too-neat hair like they always did, roaming through it slowly as Tony deepened their kiss further, breathing heavily through his nose as their tongues slid together like two dance partners. Their stubble rasped together pleasantly as Tony turned his head to one side, breathing in the taste of wine on the sorcerer’s tongue. He clasped his hands around the back of Stephen’s neck and forced himself to pull back for air. They panted together, sharing each other’s warm breath as Tony grinned against Stephen’s lips, slightly light-headed with joy and the way his heart was pounding furiously. 

“I think I like this a hell of a lot better than tea”, Tony rasped, trying to work through all the mixed emotions screaming at him, but he pushed them down. He deserved to enjoy this moment, deserved to feel good, deserved to love the sound of Stephen’s responding deep chuckle. He didn’t actually believe that he deserved these things, but Tony was very good at lying to himself. 

“I told you I have drinks other than tea”, Stephen grinned breathlessly, the large, comforting weight of his hands still resting on Tony’s waist.

“No.” Tony shook his head, tilting his head back up to whisper against the sorcerer’s perfect, parted lips. “This is all I need.” Stephen nodded in silent agreement, pressing his warm lips to Tony’s mouth again, prompting a deep groan from somewhere in his throat. Despite this, Tony could feel Stephen’s hesitance, so similar to his own, but he could also feel his longing need. He could feel it in the way the sorcerer’s hands had slid down from Tony’s waist to his upper thighs, now squeezing gently, in the way his mouth was pressed hungrily against him, the deep but near silent moans that Tony was managing to coax from him. Encouraged and with growing confidence, he let his kisses trail from Stephen’s mouth to his jawline, travelling up to his ear where he pressed another kiss.

“You’re amazing, baby”, Tony whispered breathlessly, hands gliding up to rest in the sorcerer’s hair again, moving languidly through the soft silver-streaked midnight. “You’re so gorgeous.” Stephen blushed heavily in response, turning his head to catch the corner of Tony’s mouth again, drawing him back into his softly gasping lips. 

“You’re ridiculous”, Stephen teased as he pulled back a little, using Tony’s own line against him. Tony opened his mouth to protest when the sorcerer suddenly dipped his head, drawing hot, tender kisses across Tony’s jaw and down to his neck. Tony gasped at the contact, his mouth gaping open a little at Stephen’s almost feverish butterfly touches on his bare skin, his cheeks flushing even more as a soft moan escaped his lips. Tony’s hands slid down from Stephen’s hair to his shoulders, eyes closed as he leaned his head back a little, vaguely aware of stirrings within the front of his too tight pants which he was beginning to regret wearing. Seemingly encouraged by the sound, Stephen worked his way down the left side of Tony’s neck, brushing the collar of his blazer back a bit to allow his mouth better access to Tony’s shoulder. 

“S-Stephen”, Tony whimpered, feeling his soul split in two with the vulnerability of the moment, every cell of his trauma-soaked brain screaming at him to make the contact stop, but _oh god_, the rest of him wanted to be touched, and held, and loved so badly.

“Mmm?”, Stephen said, lips still pressed tenderly against Tony’s shoulder. Tony opened his mouth, choking off another quiet gasp, about to tell him to stop, to keep going, his brain pulling him in five different directions when his watch started buzzing loudly with a call coming through.

“Oh, for the love of-”, Tony muttered, looking at the screen of his watch, though he was quietly grateful that fate had made the choice for him. Stephen pulled back immediately, face flushed almost guiltily like they had been caught doing something illegal. “It’s Peter”, Tony told the sorcerer, meeting his eyes regretfully. “I told him you and I were going out tonight, so if he’s calling-.”

“Of course. Answer it”, Stephen said without hesitation, fixing his ruffled hair self-consciously. Tony clambered off the sorcerer’s thigh to sit beside him again, giving him a look that was a mix of relief and an apology, tapping the screen of his watch to answer the call.

“Pete? What’s up, kid?”

“Dad?” Peter’s voice came over the line wavering and tear-filled, and Tony’s heart dropped immediately. “I - I’m sorry, I know y-you and the Doc are - I just can’t-.”

“Hey, it’s okay”, Tony soothed, holding the watch closer to his mouth like he was muttering words of comfort near Peter’s ear. “We don’t mind. You okay there, Underoos? You sound a bit worse for wear.” Tony could hear the shaky intake of breathe on the other end of the line, pity filling his chest as he heard his boy’s anxious breathing.

“Yeah, I’m just - I’ve been having th-this panic attack and it-it’s really bad. I - I can’t make it stop.” Another sharp intake of breath and Tony’s heart dropped further, meeting Stephen’s concerned eyes with an empathetic grimace. “I had a dream. It was ab-bout you dy- and I can’t-.” The teen dissolved into tears suddenly, voice muffled as he tried to cover his sobs. “I’m s-sorry.” Tony shook his head even though Peter couldn’t see him.

“No, no, it’s okay. Is May there?”

“Yeah”, came the tiny, wet-voiced reply, only to be replaced with an anxious-sounding May.

“Tony, he’s been like this for hours. I keep expecting it to end, but now he’s having trouble breathing and nothing I do is helping.” May sounded close to tears herself and Tony felt his own worry spike at hearing the normally calm and collected woman sounding near the end of her rope.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ll be right there, okay?” Tony glanced at his watch. “Give me three minutes.”

“Thank you”, May said, relief overcoming her voice as the panic edged away with the assurance that there was a plan to help her boy. Tony let her hang up, meeting Stephen’s eyes with an apologetic grin.

“Steph, I’m so-.”

“Don’t you dare apologize”, Stephen frowned gently, standing with him from the sofa and surprising Tony by taking his hands in his, eyes gentle glittering green in the low light. “You go take care of our boy.” Tony revelled in the rush of warmth that hit his chest at those words, loving the way they sounded coming out of Stephen’s mouth.

**_This is why I’m in love with you_**, Tony thought, taking a step closer to the sorcerer. **_Selfless, patient, kind. _**

“For the record”, Tony grinned, leaning up to meet Stephen’s lips with regained fervour. “This was one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” He smiled at the deep chuckle he could feel rather than hear come from Stephen’s chest, slipping his blazer off and handing it to the slightly bewildered sorcerer.

“So, you’ll call me back?”, Stephen teased, watching as Tony stepped back a bit, reaching up under his own t shirt to initiate the arc reactor on his chest with a sly grin.

“Well, you do have my jacket”, he reasoned logically as the nanobots crawled from the housing, fluidly encasing his body in the armour. Tony slid his glasses off and they dissolved into the wrist of the suit, giving Stephen a quick wink before the face plate came down. “Grab the window for me, Doc?” Stephen smirked once he realized what Tony was doing, a golden flicker of magic throwing the bay windows open as he carefully hung the blazer over one arm. 

“I could have opened a gateway for you”, Stephen reasoned, but there was no resentment in his eyes as he watched Tony power up the suit and hover over to the open window. Instead, the sorcerer was watching him with affectionate pride, something Tony admittedly wasn’t used to, and he was glad for the mask hiding the blush that rose in his cheeks.

“I know”, Tony said, flipping the face plate back up as he met Stephen’s eyes with a grin. “But this is more dramatic.” 

He cheekily blew a kiss, making Stephen roll his eyes affectionately, before taking off through the window and making a beeline for the Parker apartment. Soaring through the cool night air just like he was always meant to, body thrumming with equal exhilaration from kissing Stephen and the flight, Tony began to slowly realize that he’d been living in a haze until this moment. The love and support he received from Stephen was something he had never thought possible, always settling for what he assumed was the best he deserved. And as foreign as it was, he felt perfectly content for once in his life, his only concern at the moment being the teen who needed him more than ever right now.


	20. Somewhere Only We Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past trauma can be debilitating, but with the help of the right person, it is possible to work through and begin to move past it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE, for the love of the Vishanti, leave a comment saying anything or with your favourite part of the chapter and I will be eternally grateful.
> 
> Comments = serotonin and serotonin = more writing.
> 
> *****WARNING!!! EXPLICIT SCENE*****
> 
> (Any advice on what this fic’s rating should be with the addition of this scene/chapter?)
> 
> I hate spoiling this scene’s existence, but this fic is teen rated other than this one scene, so I have to give you some sort of warning. I’d say the scene is descriptive, but not overly graphic and it’s very tame. It’s extremely obvious when it starts to happen, so you can skip that part of the chapter if it makes you uncomfortable. There will be a scene break with asterisks (*****) when the explicit scene ends, so you can read the rest of the chapter if you so wish.
> 
> I made myself cry at least three separate times while writing this, so buckle up, kids.
> 
> The dog scene and the entire bathtub scene highlights how Tony is a nurturer above all else
> 
> Oh, and this is completely random, but in case you guys haven’t noticed, Pepper and Tony’s custody schedule is as follows: Pepper gets Morgan on Mondays, Tuesdays, and every other weekend and Wednesday, while Tony gets her on Thursdays, Fridays, and every other weekend and Wednesday. I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to stay true to this schedule lmao
> 
> Somewhere Only We Know
> 
> Oh simple thing, where have you gone  
I'm gettin' old and I need somethin' to rely on  
So tell me when you're gonna let me in  
I'm gettin' tired and I need somewhere to begin
> 
> And if you have a minute why don't we go  
Talk about it somewhere only we know  
This could be the end of everything  
So why don't we go  
Somewhere only we know
> 
> CHAPTER SPOILERS IN THE END NOTES

_Peter was dissolving in his arms._

_“I don't wanna go. Please, I don't wanna go.”_

_Peter was begging. Begging to stay, begging for Tony to help him, and Tony could only gape uselessly as he felt the kid, _his kid_, beginning to _dissolve_ in his arms. He was becoming dust, his weight lessening even as Tony’s injured body couldn’t hold him up anymore. He dropped to his knees but Peter wasn’t in his arms anymore. Tony looked up, across the dusty wasteland of that ruined planet, seeing that towering fucking purple creature, holding Peter’s limp body by the neck. Thanos practically sneered in triumph as he met Tony’s eyes, squeezing his right hand._

“PETER!”

Tony’s cybernetic arm came swinging down in the dark, prepared to shoot a repulsor beam straight in that smug bastard’s face, realizing in the same second that he was in his own bed. Something wrapped around his arm, closing his open, charging palm into a fist and carefully trapping his arm against his body so he couldn’t lift it again. The light flicked on in the next heartbeat, Stephen’s eyes wide in shock and momentary fear as Tony’s metal arm had been inches from his face before Levi had grabbed him, gently subduing him. Tony reached out with his other hand, still half asleep as he tried to tear the cloak away with frantic, gasping breaths until he recognized the relic securely cocooning his arm. Tony met Stephen’s eyes, seeing the fear in them, and his heart dropped into his stomach while still pounding furiously as he gasped desperately, sucking in air uselessly like a dying fish on a dock. Body braced and rigid, Tony expected Stephen to leave, expected him to storm out of the room angrily as he yelled at him for almost killing him. 

** _Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave me. I can’t handle you leaving too._ **

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Tony wheezed uselessly as Stephen sat up, shocked as the sorcerer reached cautious hands out to soothe him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe, Peter’s safe. You’re home, Tony, you’re okay”, he muttered softly in that steady, rumbling voice of his, still raspy with sleep. Tony flinched as Stephen touched his shoulder, chest heaving as Levi began to loosen their hold on his arm. “Levi, he’s fine now. Let him go.” The cloak obeyed immediately, instead wrapping around Tony’s shuddering shoulders. Tony was frozen, his nightmare induced panic attack gripping him while shock coursed through his system, barely able to register the soft trembling touch drawing him towards the sorcerer.

“Stephen-“, Tony gasped, tears trickling down his cheeks. He was scared to hurt him, scared he might still leave, but also desperate to feel his safe hands, his gentle hands.

“It’s okay”, Stephen repeated, leaning back against the pillows as he gently pulled Tony into his lap. Tony knew he shouldn’t have been moving so much weight with his hands, but he did it regardless, pulling Tony’s useless, frozen, gasping body in against his chest. The cloak wrapped around Tony’s shoulder more tightly, his panic spiking for a second until he realized the heavy fabric holding him tightly was grounding him, pulling his heart rate down as Stephen rubbed his back carefully. Tony could feel oxygen finally beginning to travel into his lungs properly, laying full length on the sorcerer’s abdomen, their legs tangled together as Tony wrapped his cybernetic arm gently around Stephen’s slim frame.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you”, Stephen muttered, Tony’s head on his chest as he focused on the soothing rumble of the sorcerer’s voice and his heartbeat. “Peter’s safe, he’s alive and well. We won this time, remember?”, Stephen continued in a comforting mumble. “He’s in Queens with May and Happy and he’s alive. He’s safe, you’re safe. We’re all okay.” Tony felt himself relaxing as these simple facts were relayed to him so calmly, grounding him to reality as much as Stephen’s gentle hands and heartbeat were. He could almost breathe normally, cybernetic fingers playing with the soft fabric of Stephen’s t shirt while horrible fears weighed heavily on his tongue.

“I thought…you were going to leave”, Tony gasped out, ashamed, sounding like he’d swallowed gravel. Stephen’s shaky grip just tightened around his back, weak but reassuring.

“I’m not going anywhere”, he said softly, sounding more sure of that fact than anything. Tony’s mind wouldn’t let him believe Stephen, wanting to believe him so badly, holding on to his words like they were an oxygen tank at the black bottom of the ocean. He gasped weakly, holding those words up to his lips as he took another shuddering breath, feeling Stephen warm and alive under him, sucking in more oxygen from those words.

“I’m sorry”, Tony’s brain made him repeat in a shaky whisper, immediately feeling Stephen hug him a little tighter against his chest.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m fine, everything’s alright, darling”, he whispered back, rubbing Tony’s cloak-clad back tenderly. Hot tears squeezed from the corners of Tony’s eyes, shame and guilt flooding his entire body, pressing his face against Stephen’s chest with a dry, strangled sob. He didn’t deserve his forgiveness, he knew he didn’t, but the sorcerer’s gentle embrace had almost fooled him. His pounding heart slowing enough that he could feel his exhaustion creeping in, and he slowly succumbed to sleep again with the sound of Stephen’s heart thumping steadily in his ear.

*****

Tony jolted awake as he squinted into the bright sunlight that met his eyes, turning his head to bury his face against Stephen’s stomach again. His nightmare from a few hours ago filtered back into his mind in terrifying fragments, and he swallowed the panic reignited in his chest, attempting to quell his anxiety as he breathed in Stephen’s warm scent that was always vaguely tinged with chai tea. The sorcerer hummed sleepily at the sudden movement, still in a half-sitting position propped up against the pillows, and Tony lifted his head again to meet green eyes twinkling in groggy amusement.

“How do you like your new pillow?”, Stephen asked, his deep voice deliciously husky with sleep, the rumbling vibrations traveling through Tony’s body pleasantly. 

“Hmmm, a bit thin”, Tony muttered with a soft chuckle, grateful for the attempt at distracting humour. He pressed a kiss to the sorcerer’s almost concave stomach. “Who’s been starving you?”

“Wong”, Stephen said dryly. “Definitely not you.” Stephen was referring, of course, to the large portions of food and the constant snack supply available in the Stark household, convinced that Tony was hellbent on helping him gain weight, which might not have been entirely untrue. “Speaking of which…breakfast?”

“Not hungry”, Tony said, his voice muffled by Stephen’s t shirt. It wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was still an anxious, jumbled mess from his nightmare, fairly certain that he wouldn’t be able to force any food in amongst all the knots. 

“Come on”, Stephen insisted, nudging him gently. “I know you aren’t going to fall asleep again. At least come down and keep me company.” Tony knew what he really meant. Stephen didn’t want to leave him alone after last night, which simultaneously left Tony feeling grateful and like a toddler who couldn’t be left unsupervised. He settled on gratitude and let Stephen drag him out of bed, feeling very much like a toddler as a sweatshirt was pulled over his head for him, but he didn’t mind, especially when it was followed by a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“Thank you”, Tony muttered softly and they both knew he wasn’t referring to the sweatshirt. He didn’t have to meet the sorcerer’s piercing gaze to know that he was smiling, feeling the gentle scratch of Stephen’s goatee as a second kiss followed the first. It was the Wednesday morning following their first official date, and the house was unusually quiet and devoid of kids as they stumbled down the stairs side by side, puttering around the kitchen like an old married couple in their usual routine of toast and tea and coffee. Tony had to keep pausing to swallow down the irrational panic that kept rising up from his stomach every time he accidentally thought of his nightmare. But Stephen would consistently distract him with little touches and words every time he noticed Tony slipping too far into his own mind, and Tony was beyond grateful. 

He remembered mornings hauntingly similar to these, before he and Stephen were together, where he’d stumble around the kitchen as a haunted husk of himself after a night’s worth of bad dreams. Pepper had been completely oblivious to his shaking left hand, the glazed over look in his eyes, asking him to stop stumbling around so Morgan wouldn’t worry. A gentle hand on Tony’s waist made him realize that he’d fallen too fair into his thoughts again, letting Stephen lead him out to the front porch steps where they sat to eat their breakfast.

“I suppose I should be grateful you convinced me to let that cloak stay in our bedroom at night”, Tony muttered bitterly into his coffee mug twenty minutes later, a half-eaten piece of peanut butter and toast left on the plate beside him. His comment earned a scolding poke in his side from Stephen.

“Stop it. I’m not mad at you, Tony. You were having a nightmare, I know you weren’t trying to hurt me.”

“Yeah, but I could have.” This wasn’t the first time Stephen had experienced one of his nightmares, of course, but it was the first time Tony had almost aimed a repulsor beam at his head, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

“Life is full of uncertainties and risks, some of which are worth taking. If you base your life around ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’, then you’re not really living.’

“You shouldn’t be taking a risk by sleeping beside me, Stephen”, Tony huffed in frustration, mostly directed at himself. “You shouldn’t have to fear for your safety in your own bed.”

“I’m not scared of you, Tony”, Stephen replied definitively, holding his gaze steadily as he pointed to Levi, the cloak floating just behind them. “They chose me. They’re bonded to me, so they’re not going to let anything happen to me, alright? And, if you’ll let me, I could attach a spell to your pendant which could help reduce your brain activity while you’re in REM sleep. Remember? We’ve tried that before and you said it helped.”

“I remember”, Tony said, nodding slowly. “Just not sure how I feel about a permanent spell like that. No offence, but magic still kind of…freaks me out.” The corner of Stephen’s mouth twitched, meeting Tony’s eyes levelly.

“Somewhat ironic seeing as it’s a part of you now, but I understand. Maybe, for everyone’s safety, you could alter your arm so that the repulsor becomes locked once your heart rate gets above a certain level while you’re sleeping.”

“I have anxiety, Stephanie. That wouldn’t help”, Tony quipped back quickly before pausing to actually consider the suggestion. “That’s actually a good idea.” A soft chuckle was the sorcerer’s only response, gesturing to the bushes at the edge of the lawn.

Hey, looks like your canine doppelgänger is back.” Tony’s eyes followed to where his finger was pointing, frowning a little as he spotted the half-blind, ratty-looking mutt sitting expectantly at the edge of the lawn. Yes, he had gotten Stephen to take down the magical protective barrier, but only because he’d convinced Morgan not to pet strange dogs, and the stray had maintained a respectful distance since then. Despite his outward irritation at Stephen’s association between himself and the dog, Tony’s protective paternal instincts had long since convinced him to pity the pathetic, ragged creature. Still, he was taken aback when Stephen pulled a few small pieces off his peanut buttered toast and held it out temptingly to the dog.

“What are you doing? Use your own toast”, Tony snapped, though without much venom. He hadn’t been able to stomach more than half a piece of the toast anyway.

“Dogs don’t like jam”, Stephen responded without looking at him, tossing one of the pieces towards the dog. “Come on, sweetheart. You look like you’re starving”, the sorcerer called gently, leaning down to look less threatening. Tony couldn’t help but smile a little as the dog stalked forward tentatively through the grass, snapping up the morsel as if it hadn’t eaten in months. Stephen and the dog repeated this routine of throwing toast and inhaling it as if it were a filet mignon until the dog was within a dozen feet of them, sitting down politely as it watched Stephen expectantly. Tony was able to get a good look at the dog now that he cared to notice, casting his eyes over the dog’s matted, dirty coat that was a mixture of brown, grey, and possibly some white as well. The dog was a large, shepherd-sized mutt with ears that couldn’t quite decide if they wanted to stand up or not, and one intelligent brown eye that was currently fixed on Stephen like he was a beloved god of some sort. Lost in his observations, Tony was thrown off when Stephen handed him the last torn-off piece of toast.

“See if he’ll take it from your hand”, Stephen encouraged, a sort of boyish excitement in his eyes that made Tony’s heart flutter. Tony hesitated, but relented with a sigh as he held the toast out at arm’s length, the morsel pinched between the thumb and fore finger of his cybernetic hand.

“Here”, he said to the dog. “If you decide to bite me, you’ll just get a mouthful of vibranium. Probably chip a tooth.” The dog didn’t seem too perturbed by his warning, slinking forward cautious to delicately take the toast between it’s teeth, drawing back before gobbling it down quickly. The dog swallowed and sat down a mere three feet away, now looking at Tony expectantly. To Tony, it felt like looking in a half-blind mirror, except furrier.

“Nuh uh”, Tony told him, holding his empty hands up. “See? All gone. No more food, so you can skedaddle.” The dog tilted it’s head at his words, looking over at Stephen once and then back to Tony, holding a paw out to him politely. His heart strings thoroughly plucked, Tony almost reflexively reached his cybernetic hand out, catching the dog’s large paw and gently shaking it a few times. “Alright, good boy. So you’re a charmer, huh? Well, I can tell you right now, it’s not gonna work on me”, Tony told the dog, dropping it’s paw carefully even as he felt Stephen’s skeptical gaze boring into his cheek. 

“I think you have a dog now, Tony”, Stephen said with the smallest flicker of a poorly-concealed grin.

“You mean I have a mooch now”, Tony corrected, succeeding in frowning about as well as Stephen was at hiding his self-satisfied smile, especially when the dog offered it’s paw again and he couldn’t help but take it. 

****

Stephen insisted on cleaning up after breakfast, though their meal had been a far cry from the usual massive assortment of eggs, pancakes, and bacon they had on weekend mornings when all the kids were over. He’d seen the anxious itch in Tony’s hands long before the engineer recognized it in himself, gently pushing him out the front door to the garage so he could start tinkering. Time spent in the garage, fiddling with his and Peter’s latest project, and throwing loving insults at Dum-E was usually the best remedy for pulling Tony out of the dredges of an anxiety attack, something Stephen had quickly picked up on as Tony had started spending more time in the garage. Rhodey had warned him about letting Tony spend too much time alone in the workshop, as he was prone to get lost in his mind and his work with no perception of time passing. But Stephen’s need to referee Tony’s tinkering had been minimal so far, so the sorcerer was content to encourage him to go out and fiddle with his gadgets and suit updates. Tony had been surprised at first by Stephen’s positive reception of this hyper-focused side of himself, but had quickly taken advantage of the time to focus on his hands instead of the buzz of trauma-induced nightmares in the back of his mind. 

Speaking of trauma-induced nightmares, Stephen’s mind wandered back to Friday night when his and Tony’s date had been interrupted by Peter’s panicked phone call. More understanding than most when it came to anxiety attacks, Stephen didn’t hold any resentment against the teen for his ill-timed phone call, grateful to receive the text from Tony a few hours later that he’d been able to pull their boy out of his panic and would be spending the night with him at the Parker apartment. Stephen had been relieved to hear this, also enjoying the knowledge that most of his family was in New York because, although conjuring a gateway never made distance an issue, the physical proximity was comforting in of itself. 

Despite his contentment at Tony being able to resolve Peter’s anxiety attack, Stephen had still been disappointed to have their date interrupted, thinking back to how Tony’s watch had buzzed with the incoming call while the engineer had been literally straddling one of Stephen’s thighs. There had been a new almost desperate hunger to their kisses lately, and on that night especially, the subsequent week full of hunger-driven glances from Tony that the sorcerer hadn’t failed to notice. Tony had always been a physically affectionate person, but those coy looks, the quietly needy touches, and passionate kisses had been more frequent than ever in the past week, just about driving Stephen crazy as they hadn’t yet had another private moment to themselves. Seeing as all the kids were elsewhere, last night would have been the perfect opportunity for some intimate time alone if Tony hadn’t been so exhausted from pulling an all-nighter with Peter the night before, for the sake of a last second chemistry assignment. Then Tony’s nightmare last night hadn’t exactly sparked a romantic mood that morning, not that Stephen minded. He was more concerned about Tony’s mental health than a bit of unbearable sexual tension, easily ignorable, he told himself. Still, Stephen had been patient and would remain so for as long as they both needed, still occasionally fighting the feeling that he didn’t deserve the most innocent of kisses from this amazing man he had somehow managed to keep in his life.

Stephen made his way out to the garage after throwing their dishes in the dishwater, cup of tea in hand as he stepped out on the porch, vaguely disappointed to see that the dog had left since the offer of food had been relinquished. His inner dog lover had jumped out the second he first saw the scraggly mutt, only keeping his distance since Tony seemed so unnerved by the stray’s presence. A plan had formulated almost subconsciously over the past months, as it was nigh impossible to have a dog at the Sanctum, but if he could get Tony to keep the dog, then they might find themselves with a new addition to the family, something Stephen was sure the kids would back him up on. 

The thumping base of an AC/DC song filtered through the open garage door as Stephen approached, greeted with a few enthusiastic beeps from Dum-E as he walked in, Levi floating in the corner vigilantly, and he was met with the sight of Tony hammering out a piece of metal, biceps prominent in the tank top he often elected to wear for working in the garage. He didn’t spot the sorcerer immediately, so Stephen was given the opportunity to appreciate the sight of the engineer at work. It wasn’t as though a decade of hard muscle disappeared in a year, so there was still plenty to admire as Tony raised the hammer and struck the piece of metal repeatedly. This particular tank top was fitted enough so as to show off his chest, his pectorals only made slightly more prominent with his minimal weight gain, the slight curve of his stomach stretching the fabric in a way that made Stephen’s blood race. Okay, time to focus on something else before his mind went too far.

“What are you working on?”, Stephen asked, leaning against the work bench as he set his mug down on it. Tony glanced over his shoulder with a quick smile in greeting before turning back to the curved piece of metal, completely entrenched in his work.

“Prototype.” 

“For?”

“Uh…it was gonna be a surprise, but…it’s a suit. For you”, Tony hastened to add, eyes still focused on his work. Stephen was speechless, heart pounding as he watched Tony silently. He knew there were only three other people in the world who Tony had made armour for: His best friend of four decades, the boy who was like a son to him, and his ex-wife who had been the most important woman in his life for over fifteen years. The fact alone that Stephen was being added to that list was enough to bring overwhelmed tears to the sorcerer’s eyes. He was about to attempt muttering out something coherent when Tony lifted up the piece of metal, revealing it to be a crude face plate.

“Like I said, prototype, so it’s a little rough”, Tony muttered modestly as he kept his eyes fixed on the sample of metal glinting in the mid morning sun. “But I like to work out a physical copy of the helmet at least before I program the nanobots.” Stephen nodded numbly, taking a sip of tea in the hopes that the hot liquid would jolt his brain into working again.

“You’re…making a suit…for me?”, Stephen clarified, aware of the redundancy of his words, but needing to say them nonetheless. He was practically shaking with the significance of this new information. Tony put a suit of armour around his world, the people most precious to him, no doubt the result of his mad Titan-induced anxiety, and now here he was building armour just for Stephen with those creative, caring hands. Tony grinned softly, tilting his head as he pried the prototype faceplate out of the tongs.

“Just as a precaution. A back up, if you will. I’m not saying it would replace your precious magic, obviously.” Tony’s eyes lit up with sudden excitement. “I could even make the armour magic-compatible, you know, code the nanobots to be powered by your magical energy instead of the reactor. You could switch between power sources if you wanted.” Stephen stepped forward to place a gentle hand on Tony’s forearm to stop his semi-nervous rambling.

“Why?”, Stephen asked suddenly, not rudely, but out of genuine curiosity. Tony had never even mentioned the idea of making a suit of armour for him, so he was still in shock. “I’m blown away, Tony, really, but are you worried something is going to happen?” Understanding flickered through Tony’s eyes as he shook his head, grimacing almost sheepishly.

“No, I don’t think the world is going to end anymore.” He paused. “I’m working on it.” He shifted uncomfortably, looked down as he toyed with the face plate in his hands. “Wong told me how your magic is never going to be as strong as it used to be, because of you giving up half your life force.” His voice was raspy with emotion as he met Stephen’s eyes. “I just want to keep you safe, since it’s my fault your magic is weakened in the first place.” Stephen’s heart fractured a little, about to pull Tony into his arms when he shoved the face plate gently into the sorcerer’s shaking hands with a playful smirk. “Do you like how it looks? I can change it if you think it’s ugly, but I might be a bit offended.”

Stephen met his eyes with a knowing look as he lifted the face plate to eye level, surveying it with a novice but appreciative eye. The dimpled metal had been cut and curved until it looked very much like the Iron Man face plate, except it was more streamline and pointed, the eye slits slightly more slanted as they led into the concave ridge above the very centre of the mask. It was rough and uneven, a crude prototype like Tony had said, but Stephen rubbed a shaking thumb over the smooth surface like it was the most precious thing in the world. 

“I love it”, he muttered, meeting Tony’s expectant, cautious eyes with a touched smile. “Really, it’s beautiful.” The compliment was reward with a twitched smirk as Stephen stepped closer, one arm pulling Tony closer as he pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “And as for my weakened magic, I’d say it was well worth it.” He could feel Tony relax under his grip, the engineer taking the face plate back and holding it out at arm’s length in front of them, wrapping his cybernetic arm around Stephen’s waist as he leaned into him.

“Well, as long as it makes up for it. What should we call him?” Stephen let out a huff of laughter, revelling in the feeling of Tony’s arm wrapped securely around him as he pressed his cheek against the shorter man’s temple. 

“It’s a him?”

“Of course”, Tony said, like it was obvious. “Or, the AI will be, at least.”

“You’re not making me an AI”, Stephen responded levelly, his eyes not wavering from the staring competition he was having with the mask.

“Whatever you say, Doc”, Tony chuckled, his voice gaining that impish edge that made it easy to imagine him as a teenager or a little boy. “What about Iron Doctor? Doctor Iron? No, that’s terrible. Iron Mage. Iron Wizard? Ooh, I like Iron Wizard.”

“I am not calling it Iron Wizard”, Stephen snorted, though his heart warmed at the suggestion of incorporating ‘Iron’ into the name. “I think we may have to go back to the drawing board with some of those names.”

“Fair enough”, Tony shrugged, turning to hold the mask up to the sorcerer’s face with a teasing grin. “Oh, honey, you look gorgeous. How’s it feel?” Stephen chuckled, as all he could see through the crude eye slits was Tony’s intense brown and blue eyes looking back up at him.

“It might need some refining”, Stephen admitted, gently pushing the mask to the side as he leaned down, whispering against Tony’s lips. “But I don’t mind some rough edges.”

“Yeah?”, Tony asked, tilting his head up, raising an eyebrow coyly as he pressed against the sorcerer’s front. “That’s good, ‘cause your man definitely has a few.”

“Oh, yeah, I noticed”, Stephen muttered teasingly, wrapping his arms around Tony’s back as their lips brushed together, delicate and persistent at once. Stephen hummed softly when Tony’s tongue pushed against his lips, begging for permission until he was accepted into the sorcerer’s mouth with a quiet moan. They both jumped a little as Stephen’s watch ran with an incoming call, Tony pulling back with a miffed look.

“We have to learn how to put these things on silent more often”, Tony grumbled, Stephen giving him an apologetic smile as he answered the call.

“Hey, Wong. I was just going to check-.”

“Terrible timing, Wong!”, Tony interjected loudly.

“Strange, you’re needed”, Wong told the sorcerer, ignoring Tony easily after a year of practice. “There’s a fight in another dimension with a group of rogue Byrtyg, and the assigned masters can’t contain it. Meet me at the Sanctum.” Wong barely waited for Stephen’s response before hanging up.

“I’ll be right there”, Stephen told the suddenly dead line, rolling his eyes in quiet exasperation before meeting Tony’s eyes. There was a flicker of fear within them, even the blind one, and Stephen didn’t hesitate to pull Tony into his arms this time, cradling the back of the engineer’s head with one hand as he felt strong arms wrap around his abdomen tightly. 

“Be safe, asshole”, Tony said, voice muffled against Stephen’s shoulder, expertly hiding his worry with a dry attempt at humour.

“Always, douchebag”, Stephen promised, pulling back with a regretful look, not able to help the way his hand lingered in Tony’s before he forced himself to pull his sling ring on, and Levi slipped on to his shoulders. Leaving the cabin alway left him feeling like he was being torn in two, but leaving for battle was so much worse. There was so much uncertainty, so much that could happen, faced with the familiar split second of questioning whether to throw caution to the wind and just say the three words forever hanging on the tip of his tongue.

**_I should just say it. I should just tell him_**, Stephen thought even as he formed the gateway, as he had thought a thousand times, practically every time they parted each other’s company. The wink Tony gave him was a split second spark of courage until that disappeared too and Stephen gave a parting grin, stepping through the gateway.

*****

Tony’s heart had dropped into his stomach when he got the call from Wong.

He had listened to the librarian with bated breath while he waited to hear the words he was expecting eight hours after Stephen had been called away from the safety of his arms. _Stephen was killed. He’s dead._ But the words didn’t come, thank god. 

Instead, Wong informed him that the battle had been successful on their part, though it had taken a toll on the Sorcerer Supreme. Tony’s heart skipped a beat at the uncharacteristic worry in the usually disgruntled librarian’s voice, saying it would be easier for Tony to come to the Sanctum to see for himself, than to try and explain the situation over the phone. A gateway opened almost immediately after Wong hung up, directing Tony through it and down the long third floor hallway.

“Is…is he hurt?”, Tony choked out, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. He was overcome with the grief and anxiety already tugging at his limbs as he followed Wong’s broad back down the familiar hall. 

“Physically? No.”

“Well, for fuck’s sake, Wong! You could have lead with that”, Tony pointed out, though he wasn’t truly angry as relief trickled through his chest warmly, still tinged with the empty, squirming feeling of uncertainty as they climbed the narrow staircase to Stephen’s room. Wong directed Tony to the scratched mahogany door of the en suite, if you could even call it that, more like a bathroom the size of small closet that just happened to be attached to Stephen’s bedroom. Levi was hovering in front of the door protectively, their collar drooping as if they were exhausted from frantically wrestling with the locked door knob.

“He locked the door with a spell too strong for me to break”, Wong pointed out simply. “And I thought calling you might be the preferred option to breaking the door down.” Tony nodded in concerned agreement.

“How long has he been in there?”

“Almost two hours”, Wong said, that gut-clenching worry making it’s way into his voice again. “And he won’t answer me, the stubborn bastard.” Tony noticed how the insult sounded almost caring, chancing a grateful hand on Wong’s shoulder.

“Thanks for calling me. I’ll see if I can coax him out.” Tony was about to knock on the door when Wong suddenly stopped him, grabbing his wrist firmly.

“Tony, I have to warn you. I don’t think you’ve seen him this bad before.” Wong glanced towards the bathroom door, keeping his voice hushed. “He hasn’t had them so much since he met you, but he used to have these dissociating episodes all the time. They’re brought on by triggers, sort of setting off his trauma.” Tony nodded slowly, absorbing this information as he almost choked on the need to see Stephen.

“Triggers?”

Wong sighed a little. “You’ll see”, he said dejectedly, gesturing to the door. When he didn’t turn to leave, Tony stepped closer to the door, rapping his metal knuckles against the wood carefully.

“Steph?”, he tried, his voice gentle but hopeful. “It’s me, babe. Wong says you’ve been in there for a while. Can you open the door for me?” There was no response and terrible empty-pill-bottle and blood-dripping-razorblade images flashed through Tony’s mind, forcing himself to take a calming breath as he knocked again. “Sweetheart, please. It’s Tony”, he clarified, his voice becoming strained with desperation. “Please open the door. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” There was still no response and Tony was just about ready to power up his palm repulsor when Wong pointed a finger at the door knob.

“I heard a click. Try the handle.” Tony let out a shaky breath of premature relief as the handle turned when he tried it and he pushed the door open slowly, Levi darting past him and slipping through the crack like liquid worry. Tony followed after the anxious cloak, stepping in onto the white tile as he looked around the door with insurmountable growing dread. The scene before his eyes filled him with equal parts relief and fear, swinging the door open the rest of the way. Stephen was sitting in the bathtub, stock still and unresponsive as Tony stepped into the bathroom, the sorcerer staring into the middle distance as shaky breaths racked his slim frame. He was leaned over, hugging his knees as each sharp rib was visible under his porcelain skin, frozen and still in the tub half full with blood-dirtied water. Levi hovered over the sorcerer, circling the tub anxiously like they weren’t sure how to help him. Tony glanced at Wong with concern, who only nodded at him reassuringly.

“Stephen?”, Tony tried as he took a step forward, appalled by how shaky his own voice was. No visible response from the sorcerer. The most shocking part of the whole scene was that Stephen was absolutely drenched in blood. It was covering nearly every visible inch of his skin, plentiful enough to obviously have made it through his thick robes which were now bunched up in a bloody mess on the closed toilet lid. Tony took another cautious step forward, eyeing the dark red beginning to dry on the sorcerer’s back and arms, dripping out of his dark hair and onto his face. His beautiful sea blue-green eyes were still blank and terrified, making Tony’s heart clench painfully as he eased towards the bathtub.

“Steph? Baby, please”, Tony found himself begging, so scared to see his usually stoic, overly-competent sorcerer like this. But he quickly swallowed his own anxiety, realizing that wasn’t what Stephen needed to hear right now, so he tried again in a soothing mumble similar to what Stephen had done for him last night. “I’m right here, Stephen. I’ve got you. You’re home, okay? Wong called me, told me you need some help.” He kneeled beside the clawfoot tub slowly, holding his hands out placatingly before resting them on the edge of the tub. He tried to catch Stephen’s eye without seeming threatening, but the sorcerer was still buried a thousand feet within his own mind. “That’s okay. I’m here to help, I’m here to help you, okay?” Something in Stephen’s eyes flickered in recognition at the sound of Tony’s voice, blood-stained lips cracking open as he took a shuddering breath.

“Tony?”, Stephen croaked, his voice barely audible. Tony had to hold back a sob, had to keep himself from reaching out and touching his arm.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay, Stephen.” Tony sucked in a shaky breath, glancing over his shoulder at Wong who still stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed in concern. “Steph…where’d all this blood come from?” Stephen still didn’t meet his eyes, frozen and rigid.

“It’s not mine”, he muttered under his breath.

“Oh”, Tony breathed, brows raising in understanding. 

“I had to kill them”, Stephen rasped brokenly, struggling to hold back tears. “Or they would have killed Wong. There was no other choice.” Tony glanced over his shoulder again to see Wong nod in guilty confirmation, clearly blaming himself for his friend’s current state.

“It’s okay. You did what you had to to protect Wong”, Tony tried to soothe as he turned back to Stephen, but the sorcerer was inconsolable. Tony often forgot about his hippocratic oath, how much it meant for him to uphold it despite not having technically been a doctor for years. Tony was both grateful and shocked when Stephen finally met his eyes with his haunted, tear-filled ones.

“It’s not okay”, he said simply, shock flooding over him once more as he looked away. Tony was urged into action by his words, leaning over carefully to drain the bloody water out of the tub, watching Stephen’s face carefully until the cold, diluted crimson water was gone. Replugging the drain, Tony turned the hot water tap on, rolling his sleeves up as he stood and gave Wong a reassuring nod.

“I think we’ll be okay”, he said levelly, trying to convince himself as well while he grabbed some clean washcloths and a plastic rinse cup from the sink counter. Wong nodded, still looking uncertain as he handed a chair to Tony from the corner of the room before leaving reluctantly. Tony closed the door quietly and brought the chair over to the side of the tub, sitting on it as he twisted the cold water on a bit. Levi continued to hover, remaining near the foot of the tub with their collar quivering in anxiety. Good hand testing the temperature of the water, Tony tried to meet Stephen’s eyes again, but the sorcerer was still zoned out in shock.

“You still with me, Steph?” He received a mute nod in return, but Stephen seemed to be vaguely aware of what he was doing and hadn’t made any move to stop him yet, so Tony continued, turning the taps off as they settled into the steamy silence of the room. He reached his good hand out to softly touch Stephen’s arm, his heart dropping as the sorcerer flinched away. Levi’s collar snapping up alertly as they continued to watch Tony diligently, prepared to protect Stephen even from him. 

“It’s okay, honey. It’s just me”, Tony said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You’re okay. I’m right here, I just want to take care of you.” He continued to mutter soft, comforting nonsense as he took the rinse cup and dipped it into the water, lifting it to gently pour the warm water down the sorcerer’s back. Stephen clenched his jaw a little at the sensation, but didn’t react otherwise. Tony continued to slowly, oh so slowly, rinse the blood off his back and shoulders while Stephen remained hunched over his knees, hands shaking more than usual as he gripped his own arms like he was his own life buoy. Tony felt some of his anxiety start to fade as they kept companionable silence, the only sound was that of the water dripping off Stephen’s back and back into the tub. Tony lifted another cupful to the back of his neck, noticing how his pendant chain glinted silver as the blood was rinsed off of it, the tiny arc reactor metallic and sparkling from the light reflecting off the water in the tub. Putting the rinse cup on the floor beside the chair, Tony ran one of the washcloths under more hot water from the tap.

“Is this okay?”, Tony asked softly, waiting for his nod before carefully running the washcloth down the sorcerer’s arm. Moving slowly, Tony rinsed any remaining blood off the sorcerer’s arms and shoulders, moving to his back as he slowly ran the washcloth down his bare skin, pale like marble, well-muscled, and marked heavily with scars. Tony didn’t stare at the scars mostly because that would just be hypocritical, but also feeling that Stephen would be able to sense if he did. Despite this, he couldn’t help but glance just a little at the jagged assortment of scars, including everything from obvious lacerations from a blade, bite marks, even the circular mark of suction cups from what looked to have been giant tentacles. Tony shivered inwardly, awe filling his chest as tears prickled at the backs of his eyes, marvelling at what this man had been through, things that Tony knew nothing about. Seeing the horrific marks on his back, Tony could imagine why Stephen had never shared the stories of how he had gotten them. All the while, he was relieved to feel Stephen begin to relax under his soft touch with the washcloth, the sorcerer’s muscles slackening a little even as he continued to rigidly hug his knees to his chest. 

Tony was rewarded for his patience when he risked resting his good hand on Stephen’s shoulder, smiling a little as Stephen leaned into the touch instead of flinching away from it again. His heart practically sung with relief when those scared green-silver eyes met his, scanning Tony’s face like Stephen was trying to rememorizes every line and every scar, his warm eyes and the soft greys in his hair. Tony gave him another reassuring smile, letting him take his time until the sorcerer had visibly calmed, looking back up at Tony trustingly. 

“Come on”, Tony muttered gently, good hand softly resting on Stephen’s upper back. “Let’s do your hair too, baby.” Stephen succumbed to his touch willingly, letting Tony support the base of his neck as he helped him lean back in the water slowly with only the smallest flicker of panic in his eyes. “There you go, I’ve got you”, Tony said, using his cybernetic hand to rinse water through Stephen’s hair while he mumbled gentle encouragement and affirmation, whispering over and over that he would take care of him. Levi hovered behind Tony either in worry or in preparation to strangle him if he made a wrong move. Stephen still had his hands rested on his own thighs, the water darkened enough by blood that he didn’t seem worried about covering himself. Tony was grateful that he wasn’t fretting about that, at least, either because he was drowning in trauma or comfortable enough with Tony that he didn’t care. Tony used shampoo the second time as he washed the sorcerer’s hair properly, using the cup to rinse warm water from the tap through his hair.

After helping Stephen sit up carefully, Tony ran a clean washcloth under the hot water tap once more, resting his good hand on the sorcerer’s shoulder while he washed his face gently. Stephen kept trusting eye contact with him the entire time, and Tony felt as though his heart was melting, holding his good hand under the sorcerer’s chin gently while he made sure all the blood had been rinsed off his face. Tony found himself lost in those kaleidoscope eyes, overwhelmed with joy at seeing his man resurface within them, his soft, beautiful man looking up at him with increasing calm and trust. Tony smiled softly, heart thumping with love as he leaned forward to press a tender kiss to Stephen’s forehead, lips just barely grazing his skin.

“There you go, sweetheart”, he whispered. Stephen shivered pleasantly at the contact, the smallest flicker of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as the glazed over look had left his eyes completely by now.

“Thank you…so much”, Stephen breathed, looking up at Tony like he was the sun in the sky, the very air he needed to breathe. Slightly embarrassed by the undue thanks, Tony just shook his head a bit, cupping the sorcerer’s cheek softly before standing to grab the housecoat and towel from the back of the door, setting both on the chair he had been sitting on. 

“You’re okay to get out on your own?”, Tony asked, watching as Stephen hesitated before nodding, his eyes flickering downwards self-consciously. Tony would have gladly helped the sorcerer out of the tub and dried him off, but he didn’t want to push any boundaries when Stephen was already feeling so vulnerable. Tony nodded, convincing himself to leave as he walked out of the bathroom and closed the door carefully behind him, trusting Levi to make sure Stephen didn’t slip or to offer emotional comfort if needed. He found Wong restlessly trying to read in his study, and he assured the librarian that Stephen was doing much better, though Tony planned on staying at least a little longer. Wong’s only response was a nod and a knowing look. 

****

**_Blood. Oh, god. So much blood._**

It was trapped in Stephen’s mind on repeat, the look in Wong’s eyes as he had accepted his own death during that battle. There was the split second trembling of inter-dimensional space breaking and sizzling as Stephen snapped two enormous space shards through the air in front of Wong’s would-be murderer, slicing the massive alien in two pieces. The blood splatter from the instantaneous laceration drenched everyone within a fifty metre radius, several of the other masters starting at the downpour that had seemingly come out of nowhere, gaping at the slaughter as a few stared in shock at the Sorcerer Supreme who was known for his reluctance to kill. Wong, one of the few safe from the rank, molten carnage as he had been guarded by the creature’s head, noticed Stephen devolving rapidly into shock as he stared at the result of the life he had just taken. He had gaped down in quiet horror at the deep, sour-smelling blood drenching his robes just as Wong reached him, immediately opening a gateway to the Sanctum now that the other masters had the battle under control. 

Stumbling through the gateway, shock settled into Stephen’s body like ice cold lead as Wong lead him into the bathroom, encouraging him to get cleaned up and leaving him in privacy to do so, even ordering Levi to follow the librarian out into the hall. He needed to be alone right now. Stephen could see the knowing look on Wong’s face him as he left, feeling guilty of the fact that his friend even had knowledge of the trauma-induced episode which was bound to come. He stripped himself of his heavy, drenched robes with terribly shaking hands. He knew that the physical act of killing someone wasn’t what was triggering the ripping waves of nausea, the shadowy images in his mind of past deaths. 

Killing someone for the second time in his life had been more of a tipping point to drop him into a traumatic spiral of shock and anxiety. He’d seen enough death to last millions of lifetimes, so witnessing one person’s demise shouldn’t have affected him so severely. But there were too many choking memories associated with being responsible for someone’s death, the ability to play with their fate and the future, all the times he’d had to watch himself take a very specific someone’s life in his hands. Everything built up in a barbed wire knot in his stomach, pulling on his heart and tendons like the universe testing the resistance of a rubber band, bitter memories leaving him retching in the sink for the next hour. 

*****

Stephen walked out of the bathroom several minutes after Tony left him to get out of the tub on his own, the navy blue house coat (an exact replica of the one Tony had given him at the cabin) wrapped securely around him and tied at the waist, holding him together as his shaky legs carried him across the ancient floorboards. Stephen pulled himself back into his own body with great effort, barely keeping from collapsing as familiar comfort swarmed his chest. His eyes met Tony’s, relieved to see him seated on the foot of Stephen’s bed, warm and alive and _there_. 

Oh, _for the Vishanti’s sake,_ Tony had seen him like that, terrified and frozen and naked in the bathtub. Stephen would have blushed, at least have been a little flustered if his brain could register any emotion in that moment but, meeting Tony’s eyes again, he was only reminded of his caring, understanding hands, his gentle voice completely devoid of judgement. 

Shock still weighing heavily in his limbs, Stephen stumbled forward carefully, settling himself gingerly onto the bed beside Tony, close enough that their thighs brushed together. He numbly noticed Levi hovering a few feet away, figuring Wong must have cleaned the blood off them with a spell as they appeared none the worse for wear after the battle. He ran a hand through his still damp hair, fluffy and messy in a way that Tony always said made him look about ten years younger. Stephen could feel the second he started to slip back into the too fresh blood-soaked memories again, freezing as one shaking hand gripped the comforter in a desperate attempt to ground him to this reality.

“Come here”, Tony muttered, like he couldn’t stand it anymore, pulling Stephen against his side with his cybernetic arm. Stephen let himself slump sideways, resting his head on the shorter man’s shoulder gratefully, ignoring the way his sore ribs twinged in protest at the movement. The blood-soaked memories were pushed back as Tony’s calming presence seeped in instead. Subconsciously desperate to get closer to Tony’s half of the life force, Stephen turned to press his face into Tony’s chest with one trembling arm wrapped around his soft middle, only vaguely aware of his own physical form because of the strong arms holding him together. Trying to keep from digging his fingers into Tony’s waist, he instead focused on the soft fabric of the grey AC/DC t shirt beneath his shaking fingers, the comforting plushness of Tony’s side. If he was honest, he liked Tony’s extra weight, and if he was going to be cheesy about it, he would have pointed out that it just meant there was more of him to love. 

“And I left Peter on baby-sitting duty, so hopefully they don’t burn the cabin down before Happy gets there”, Tony said, and Stephen suddenly realized that he had been talking for the past several minutes. Not conversation type talking, mostly just the comforting, nonsense rambling from before, and last night, and every single time one of them just needed to hear a caring human voice. Stephen lost himself in the soothing lull of Tony’s voice, listening to his heart beat and his voice rumbling gently against his ear as the comforting nonsense turned into Tony telling him about the progress he made on Stephen’s suit and how he needed him to come over soon to get his measurements for the armour. 

Then he told him how Morgan was dropped off in the late afternoon with Peter. Stephen felt his body losing it’s poisoned, sickly fear as Tony told him about Morgan building a lego tower taller than herself, about how Peter had been anxiously waiting for his acceptance letter to MIT. Stephen chuckled quietly as Tony recounted his and Morgan’s baking disaster, ruining two trays of cookies before they realized they had gotten the recipe wrong. It was the first positive noise he had made since Tony walked into the bathroom and he felt Tony’s grip tighten around his shoulders almost gratefully. Stephen pulled himself up into a sitting position, still sitting as close as possible to Tony as he looked in his love’s concerned eyes.

“Thank you”, Stephen said softly, sinking comfortably in the sweet warmth of Tony’s half of the life force. Even a year later, he was still occasionally taken aback by just how physically and emotionally healing Tony’s mere presence was, and not just for their shared soul. Tony just shook his head, pulling the sorcerer closer so he could press a warm, stubble-prickled kiss to his forehead.

“Stop thanking me”, Tony insisted, looking in his eyes earnestly. “You do the same for me, Merlin.” Stephen opened his mouth to respond, but his gentle rebuttal was interrupted when Tony spoke again suddenly, desperate to change the topic. “So, I was thinking some more about a name for the armour while I was working on it. Mostly because I want to stop saving the project files under ‘Wizard’s Armour’, ‘cause that’s lame.” 

“Hmm, charming”, Stephen chuckled sarcastically, sinking willingly into their comfortable banter, a welcome contrast to the bloody, guilt-ridden alternative his mind was offering. He was used to these trauma-induced dissociative episodes lasting much longer, days sometimes, so was shocked but pleased to find himself devolving back to ‘normal’ so quickly under Tony’s care. 

“Honestly, I’m still personally partial to ‘Iron Wizard’”, Tony continued with that familiar playful smirk. “But I suppose it’s up to you, even if I’m the creator”. Stephen could see that he was completely joking, but he had decided on a name the second Tony mentioned choosing one in the garage that morning. Stephen was fully aware of the momentous significance of the armour Tony was building for him. It was a gesture that, for Tony Stark, was as big and life-changing as a love confession or a proposal (a promise as a life-long best friend or metaphorical adoption papers in Rhodey's and Peter’s cases respectively), maybe even more so in some ways. The suits of armour Tony made were his heart and soul combined, a physical manifestation of his need to protect the most important people in his life, and Stephen was beyond overwhelmed at the very thought. 

“I was thinking Iron Sorcerer, actually”, Stephen said off-handedly, secretly pleased at the surprise that flitted through Tony’s eyes. “Seeing as the term ‘wizard’ is technically inaccurate, a fact that I’ve given up on trying to convince you of.”

“Really?”, Tony asked, not even trying to pull a mask over the shocked look on his face.

“What? Stepping on your toes with that one?”, Stephen asked, still teasing as he saw the faintest of blushes play across Tony’s cheeks.

“No”, Tony said in an awed mumble, meeting Stephen’s eyes with an amused half grin as he was able to regain a little composure. “I just never thought you’d actually want ‘iron’ in the name like that.”

“Why not?”, Stephen asked softly, looking into his eyes with slight amusement. “You’re my everything. We’re a part of each other in every other way…”, he pointed out, subconsciously fingering the arc reactor pendant resting on his collarbone. “Why not with my armour too?” For once in his life, Tony looked like he had no idea what to say, blinking several times with those ridiculous Bambi lashes of his, face softening as he glanced at Stephen’s lips. 

“Can I kiss you?”, he asked, his voice sounding smaller than usual.

“You don’t have to ask”, Stephen muttered, leaning forward and trying hard not to shudder, memories from the recent incident flashing through his mind, but then melting against Tony’s soft lips like he always did, sighing softly as he pressed into his mouth. The kiss was soft and tender as Tony drew him in, cupping his jawbone with his gently calloused, nurturing hand. Stephen breathed Tony in deeply, and he smelled specifically like his expensive-but-not-as-expenisve-as-it-used-to-be cologne and those frozen french toast sticks that he made whenever Stephen wasn’t over for a lazy lunch (a new favourite of Morgan’s much to the sorcerer’s chagrin). He smelled like home. And Stephen could relax fully, starting to push the blood-drenched thoughts out of his mind for now as he was lost in that scent. But then one of those thoughts slipped through the barriers he was trying to put up and he froze a little, Tony’s eyes suddenly meeting his with so much understanding held within them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Tony asked carefully, still cupping Stephen’s cheek in his hand. Stephen shook his head minutely, losing himself in Tony’s good eye that was beautiful and vibrant like sunlit brandy. 

“No. I just want to forget.”

“Let me help you forget”, Tony muttered, something vulnerable and unguarded in his eyes, like a raw, open wound after you’d pulled the bandage back. But then he was kissing Stephen’s lips again repeatedly, playful and barely there, butterfly touches meant to pull him out of his own mind. Stephen found himself smiling at the tickle of Tony’s scruff against his, pressing against his warm mouth for a proper kiss as Tony’s hand drifted up to play with his hair softly.

“Should we turn our watches off this time?”, Tony grinned teasingly, lifting his brows in surprise when Stephen nodded, tapping the silver band on his wrist thrice in order to shut it off unless an emergency call came through. Tony did the same, hands finding their way back into Stephen’s hair as he muttered against his lips. “That’s better. My wizard needs kisses right now. If Peter has an emergency, he can call Happy or Rhodey.”

“Right, they should be fine without us for five seconds”, Stephen agreed with a light chuckle, sending Levi to their usual corner by the window just in case they decided to feel like cuddling, before pressing back into Tony’s mouth again. He loved that cloak, loved when they wrapped around him and Tony together, but he needed to focus on his man alone right now. Tony tasted faintly of coffee just like he always did and Stephen was able to focus on the lingering bitterness, humming deeply at the way Tony’s cybernetic fingers were working their way slowly through his hair, making it messier, if possible. Stephen shifted sideways on the bed so he could deepen the kiss without getting a crick in his neck, his thigh slipping out from the front of his housecoat as he leaned towards Tony. He couldn’t help the soft moan that passed from his mouth to Tony’s when he felt the silicon pads of cybernetic fingers graze his bare thigh, titillating his skin with a delicate touch as Tony ran his fingertips from the sorcerer’s knee to just under the edge of the navy blue housecoat that was beginning to slip to the side

Tony grinned in the kiss, presenting a playful challenge as Stephen’s hand slid down from it’s place on his chest, right on his arc reactor scar where it always seemed to land. Suddenly starving for his touch, Stephen pressed his tongue into the heat of their kiss, eliciting a pleased moan from Tony’s throat, simultaneously sliding a shaking hand down Tony’s stomach to his thigh. With a sharp jolt in his chest, a tingling of nerves and hot excitement, Stephen’s fingers grazed the decidedly hard bulge in the crotch of Tony’s jeans, letting his hand rest there as he pulled back from their kiss a fraction of an itch. 

“Tony?” 

Tony’s eyes widened in embarrassment as he pulled back, big and blinking with those long, dark lashes, face flushed beautifully.

“Sorry”, he said suddenly, gaping a little in his flustered state. “I - damnit. I didn’t mean -.” His next words dissolved in a shuddering sigh as Stephen kissed his neck softly, drawing his lips over Tony’s collarbones. Stephen felt a rush at the small gasps he was able to elicit from Tony’s throat, gorgeous eyelashes fluttering as he titled his head to one side slightly so the sorcerer’s warm mouth could reach his neck better. A sudden stirring in his own groin urged Stephen to kiss Tony’s partially scarred neck a little more fervently, nipping gently at his clavicle while ghosting a shaking hand over the growing erection in the engineer’s jeans. He felt Tony’s entire body seize quickly at the contact, tilting his head back to meet Stephen’s eyes.

“We don’t have to -.”

“I want to”, Stephen interjected decisively, meeting his eyes with crystal clear clarity. Tony’s eyes scanned his face for any sign of hesitation, but there was none and Tony seemed to accept his response as genuine. 

“Stephen, you just had a massive panic attack”, Tony reasoned gently, wanting to be one hundred percent certain they wouldn’t regret this decision later. 

“I want to”, Stephen repeated in a whisper, keeping eye contact as he lifted the hand not resting on Tony’s crotch to gently caress his scarred cheek. “I promise I’m fine now. Trust me.” The look on Tony’s face said he couldn't deny that request. He breathed out a nodded, “Yes”, as he was already pressing back against Stephen’s lips passionately, more than willingly raking a hand up through the sorcerer’s hair as he pulled him back into a crushing, soul-affirming kiss. Stephen felt a little light headed even as his tongue found its way into Tony’s hot, open mouth, and then pressing ardent kisses across his cheek and back down to his throat, gently palming his groin all the while. 

“Careful with me, Doc”, Tony gasped teasingly as Stephen trailed fevered kisses down the side of his throat. “I have a heart condition, remember?”

“I thought you got that taken care of”, Stephen rumbled breathlessly against the pulse of Tony’s neck.

“Hmm, seems I’ve got a new heart condition, then”, Tony smirked, breath hitching in his throat as Stephen ran a hand down his erect length through the fabric of his pants. Stephen turned so he was facing him, hands on Tony’s thighs as he kissed down his neck, to his chest and his soft stomach as he slowly kneeled between Tony’s legs, once again kneeling in front of Tony like he was a revered deity, looking up in his eyes, questioning and wanting. 

He hadn’t really had the proper time to lust and fawn over the beauty that was Tony Stark, not since he’d actually known him. There had been too much pain in the way, too many possible presents and futures. He would have died to just hold hands with him, worshipping his eyes, his arms, that beautiful smile, it was all just background noise in the back of Stephen’s mind. He’d lusted over him, sure. Thought about him many times in the past year, in the lonely dark of his bedroom. And Stephen would be lying if he hadn’t felt his blood boil occasionally, on those really lonely nights before they were together when he finally tore his mind away from his books, from those realities, cursing out the universe for its unfairness. He’d be lying if he denied trembling against his pillows, thinking of Tony’s rough, gentle hands on him, messily jerking off until his hands ached too much, which didn’t take very long. He’d be left mortified and frustrated, laying in the dark with burning desire, a raging hard-on, and nothing he could do about it. He’d used a steadying spell on his hands once before, but the sharp pain which persisted in them for days afterwards hadn’t even been worth it

He’d never stooped low enough to buying toys, something he could use to get off without the use of his hands, because that would be giving in to the fantasy, pathetically believing in a world where he thought he had a chance with Tony. His mind had still been hung up on those possibilities he’d seen, all those realities where Tony was his loving husband, where he was allowed to give Tony’s body the attention he deserved, countless nights where he’d been absolutely lost in pleasure under Tony’s touch. So, some nights, when he simply couldn’t bear letting the erection fade, he’d hump one of his pillows, which was mortifying within itself. It was nowhere near as satisfying as it could have been, but he let himself divulge into his own mind, imagine it was Tony’s touch on him. Then he would finish, embarrassed and disgusted at how pathetic he was, cleaning himself up with a quick spell before shoving his face into his pillow numbly. His heart would ache for the lost love he had never really had, frustrated tears making his eyes burn until he drifted off into a restless sleep.

But he could shove such mortifying thoughts from the past out of his mind as he looked up at Tony, appreciating the curve of his slightly parted lips, his gorgeous long lashes, the muscle of his good arm, along with the solid curves of his body thanks to his extra weight which frankly drove Stephen crazy. The silent agreement made between them to not mention one another’s physical appearance was broken as Stephen choked out a broken, “You’re beautiful”, taking in the sight of the gorgeous man before him, all flushed cheeks and big, trusting eyes. He could see that the comment made Tony uncomfortable, still squirming in the foreign praise given to him just for existing, making Stephen even more determined to acclimatize him to such compliments. But all in good time.

“Steph, you don’t have to…”, Tony said but then trailed off, referring to the sorcerer’s kneeling position, but Stephen’s hands were already fumbling with Tony’s belt, shame spiking through his chest sharply at the uselessness of his jittery, nerve-damaged hands until Tony took over.

“Here, let me”, Tony said gently, his own hands shaking a little as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, letting Stephen take care of the zipper. Stephen surprised them both with his lack of hesitation, steadily kneading the bulge in Tony’s pants while kissing his chest. Their eyes met in a soul-binding moment, pressing a single tender kiss to each other’s lips before Stephen slipped his gentle, shaking hand into the front of Tony’s boxers, carefully pulling his semi-erect member out and fondling it slowly. Stephen choked down the familiar frustration that accompanied use of his hands, distracting himself by pulling Tony down for another quick kiss. Tony moaned in Stephen’s mouth as he started to pump him in his scarred hand as steadily as he could manage.

“Your hands”, Tony breathed out, his voice almost chiding with concern.

“It’s okay”, Stephen said with a soft smile, giving him a few more assertive strokes before dipping his head down to run his tongue up the underside of Tony’s cock, making him whimper helplessly. Encouraged by the sound, Stephen wrapped his lips around the head, humming as he felt Tony’s fingers gently twine into his hair almost immediately, beginning to slowly bob his head up and down. The breathless, whining noises Tony was making were going straight to Stephen’s cock, still concealed by his bathrobe, running his hands up and down Tony’s thighs as he slowly took him in his mouth. Humming deep in his throat, he lowering his mouth down Tony’s length even further as he created slight suction by hollowing out his cheeks. 

“Stephen, oh god”, Tony moaned lustily, his good hand grasping at Stephen’s dark hair as he leaned back a little, supporting his weight with his cybernetic arm. Stephen was urged on by the warmth and weight of Tony’s hand, drawing Tony deep into his mouth and then pulling back up repeatedly, swirling his tongue around the head before pulling off slowly. He looked up to meet Tony’s hazy eyes as his hand went back to slowly stroke the base of his cock, the amount of pleasure and love in Tony’s eyes almost unfathomable.

“Get up here, you”, Tony breathed, pulling Stephen up towards his mouth. Stephen stood more than willingly, lost in the heat of Tony’s lips and tongue as they met in a crushing kiss, Tony pulling him closer by the front of his bathrobe. Tony pulled him back onto the foot of the bed beside him, guided him by his mouth to turn as he urged him back up the bed further. Stephen lied back in the middle of the bed and Tony followed after him, their lips locked while one of Tony’s strong hands was pressed down against his chest firmly but oh so gently. Tony pulled back only to slide off the end of the bed, standing as he rid himself of his socks, pants and boxers, cock bobbing as he struggled out of his jeans. Stephen braced himself up on his elbows as he leaned back, watching Tony undress appreciatively as he took the moment to catch his breath, his own erection tenting the front of his disarrayed housecoat almost obscenely. He was a bit surprised when Tony didn’t remove his t shirt as well, but wasn’t given much time to think about it as Tony crawled up the bed to meet his mouth again, hot and hungry as he straddled Stephen’s angular hips.

“Let’s get this off you, hmm?”, Tony breathed softly, his hands resting gently on the front of the housecoat hopefully. Stephen appreciated the question despite there not being any doubt now, nodding as he met Tony’s eyes with a look that was worth a million words. The look said, ‘I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for you. I could have waited forever, but I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.’

“Yes”, Stephen muttered, just because he could say it, before his breath was lost in Tony’s mouth again, gentle but desperate hands untying the knot of his robe while Tony ground their hips together slowly. Stephen should have felt trapped, completely pinned under Tony’s weight and at his mercy but, underneath the slight buzz of nervous anxiety, he’d never felt so safe as he did then. It was new and foreign and he should have been terrified, but it was also so familiar and easy just because it was _Tony_. Besides, Tony had just seen him naked and scared while having a panic attack in the bathtub, so there wasn’t much else that could happen now that would be more soul-baring than that.

Still, Stephen felt a flicker of self-consciousness swarming in his chest as Tony carefully pulled the housecoat off and shucked it off the side of the bed, exposing the sorcerer’s heavily scarred stomach and chest, twisting, silver scars snaking down across his thighs and shoulders as well. It was nothing Tony hadn’t seen before, from the night of their first kiss when Stephen had gone to Tony’s bedroom door with nothing but a towel around his waist, but Stephen was still uncomfortable to have the ugly collection of scars on a display, the reminders of old wounds as a result of countless battles in other dimensions. And for the Vishanti’s sake, he was too skinny. Still too fucking _skinny_. He hadn’t been able to gain back even half of the muscle he had lost since the life force split, and his body had never been prone to harbouring any fat, so he was still too sharp, like there were shards of granite under his skin. Tony should be able to see right through his pale skin, see all the sharp edges of his bones, see how broken and breakable and ragged he was. Stephen barely suppressed a shudder as Tony’s warm palm grazed over his cheek, just another edge to get cut on.

“Perfect”, Tony whispered appreciatively as he looked down at him with a loving sigh, his eyes dancing over the sorcerer’s wiry, abused, marked-up body. Stephen’s instinctual fight or flight response chose that moment to kick in, his brain screaming at him that he wasn’t worthy of this praise, and he definitely shouldn’t be allowed to touch Tony as he had. He was too broken, too dysfunctional, Tony deserved someone better. But Tony kept touching him, he didn’t pull away at the sight of his scars or his too prominent ribs, didn’t say anything about the too sharp planes of his body, just kept touching him like he wanted him, _needed_ him. And Stephen couldn’t help but let himself give in, trying to believe that he deserved to let his damaged hands touch Tony’s shattered-and-put-back-together perfection, softly and carefully like he might shatter again under the sorcerer’s touch. 

But Tony didn’t shatter and he obviously saw something that Stephen didn’t as he gazed lovingly down at him like he was a piece of fine art, making Stephen squirm a little in the juxtaposition of his own self-hatred. But Tony didn’t give him much time to mull over his insecurities, making Stephen feel so wanted and _adored_ as he pressed passionate kisses down the sorcerer’s neck to his collarbone. Stephen gasped softly as Tony’s hot lips starting exploring his chest, sucking on each nipple in turn while carefully placing kisses in between. His shaking hands found Tony’s hips, left hand landing on the scarred skin which crept from under Tony’s shirt and halfway down his thigh, brushing the scars softly with his own damaged fingers. Tony noticed the gentle attention to his scars, but seemed to appreciate it as opposed to pulling away, continuing his diligent path down the twisting roadmap of the sorcerer’s scarred chest. Stephen was then mortified to feel tears suddenly prickle at the backs of his eyes as Tony trailed soft kisses over his scars, noticing how he made sure to press his lips against each jagged mark on his skin. Overwhelmed to speechlessness, Stephen attempted to show his appreciation another way, running his scarred fingers through Tony’s soft, greying hair slowly, heart thudding with love as he felt Tony smile against his skin.

“You gorgeous man”, Tony hummed, lifting his head to softly kiss Stephen’s lips repeatedly. “I know you don’t, but I love these scars, baby. They’re beautiful”, he grinned, seemingly pleased as the comment made Stephen blush deeply. 

“Stop it”, the sorcerer muttered in embarrassment, staring back into Tony’s gorgeous mismatched eyes. 

“I won’t. You deserve to hear it”, Tony insisted. Stephen had realized months ago that Tony was a bit of a glass canon when it came to compliments: He could dish them out all day long, but getting him to accept one himself was like pulling teeth. Stephen had to swallow the lump in his throat as he gently cupped the scarred right side of Tony’s face in attempt at reciprocating his own love for his partner’s scars. And the way Tony’s eyes softened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile, showed that he understood the silent gesture. He kissed the sorcerer’s forehead once before dipping back down to press his lips against his chest again, grinding himself against Stephen’s erection slowly, arousal suddenly pooling in the sorcerer’s lower abdomen in response. Stephen gasped quietly as Tony reached down to grasp him gently in his good hand, pumping him in his fist steadily. The sorcerer bit back a deep moan as Tony gripped his length and rubbed a thumb against the tip, noticing how Stephen was holding back the noises of pleasure forming in his throat.

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to feel good”, Tony purred. “You’re safe. Let me take care of you.” He increased the speed at which he was stroking as he leaned forward to kiss Stephen, nibbling at the sorcerer’s panting lower lip. How was it that Tony could read him so well, know every flicker of emotion that passed through him? He knew him so well, it feel like a closeness that was past even what the life force had given them. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart”, Tony whispered. Stephen nodded silently as he pressed up into his mouth, deepening the kiss as his hands drifted to the bottom of Tony’s t shirt, starting to lift it up when he felt Tony’s entire body tense, his hand freezing as well as he met Stephen’s eyes almost guilty.

“Can I leave it on?”, Tony asked suddenly, and Stephen’s heart broke at the fear in his eyes. 

“You sure?”, Stephen asked with a slight tilt of his head, hoping he could gently coax Tony out of his shirt, more for the sake of his insecurities than anything.

“Well, you know”, Tony shrugged, refusing to meet the sorcerer’s eyes. “I’m all out of shape and there’s just more of this- ”, he said, pointing to the scarred side of his face, “ -down there. Nothing nice to look at.”

“Tony”, Stephen reasoned softly. “You know I don’t mind your scars.”

“I do”, Tony said, a little too quickly. “Okay? I mind.”

“It’s okay”, Stephen soothed, gently gripping Tony’s forearms with both of his hands. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, darling.” He could see the favoured pet name had its intended effect as the tension in Tony’s shoulders slackened, meeting the sorcerer’s eyes before nodding, like he was triple-checking that his words were genuine. Stephen was relieved when he dipped down to meet his lips again, soft and sure and forgiving as Stephen slid a shaking hand around his back to show how okay he was with the shirt staying on. He loved him, loved all of him, naked or fully clothed, it didn’t matter, as long as he had Tony. Tony suddenly rolled off of him, laying length-wise beside the sorcerer, pressed up against his lithe frame as he gave him a questioning look.

“Steph, do you have…?”, he started to ask and Stephen blinked as his brain caught up with Tony’s words.

_Oh._

Stephen blushed a little, lifting one hand while Tony gave him a slightly bewildered look. With a quick movement of the sorcerer’s fingers, an ample amount of lubricant was deposited in Tony’s good hand, earning an amused eyebrow raised as he met Stephen’s eyes.

“Magic lube. Of course.”

“Is that okay? I know you don’t like-.” Stephen cut himself off with a whimper as Tony hoisted his legs up with one arm, bending them at the knees as he reached down and gently smeared the lube between his defined buttocks, watching Stephen’s face for any negative reaction the entire time. Stephen could only quiver breathlessly at Tony’s touch, his entire body tensed as his shaking hands grabbed at the comforter on the bed, familiar ghosts of pleasure building in his core at the contact. 

“Try to relax a little, honey”, Tony said patiently with a chuckle, kissing the sorcerer’s cheek soothingly as he cupped the back of his head with his cybernetic hand. “Or I’m not going to be able to get anything inside you.”

“Sorry”, Stephen said, voice shaking as much as his hands were. “It’s…it’s been a long time.” Six years, to be exact, if you counted since the final ‘on’ period of his and Christine’s relationship, but not since his late twenties if you were referring to this specific sort of intercourse.

“Hey, it’s okay”, Tony soothed, kissing his forehead, still massaging his fingers against him gently. “It has been for me too”, he said quietly, letting Stephen know more about his earlier past in six words than he had in almost a year. Stephen knew through the fourteen million realities, of course, that Tony had frequently had both male and female partners well into his thirties, but it was gratifying to hear Tony admit in person that Stephen was the first man he had been with in decades. 

“Kiss me. Please?”, Stephen asked, knowing it would help relax him, moaning breathlessly as he lost himself in Tony’s soft-lipped, scratchy-stubble kisses, shaking fingers cupping the back of his head gently while he willed his entire body to slacken. He melted against Tony’s mouth while the engineer worked one generously-lubed finger into him, slowly, gently pressing in and then drawing back out, increasing his pace incrementally. Stephen wrapped both arms loosely around Tony’s neck as they pecked at each other’s lips softly, a smile tugging at the corner of Tony’s mouth as he held the quivering sorcerer against him. 

“There you go, just relax”, Tony hummed against Stephen’s lips. “You ready for another?” Stephen nodded, groaning as Tony slipped in a second skillful finger, feeling him twist his hand slightly, reaching a particularly good spot that made Stephen’s cock twitch in response. His cheeks flushed heavily, his limbs tingling pleasantly while he moaned into Tony’s mouth, drawing the tender kisses deeper as his need grew. Stephen’s breath hitched as Tony took this as a signal to add another finger, slowly, but still stretching Stephen out enough that he whimpered and had to force himself not to tense up again. Struggling not to focus too much on the feeling of Tony’s fingers moving in out and of him, Stephen took it upon himself to reach down and wrap his hand around the engineer’s slightly neglected member. Tony groaned in response, a breathless chuckle brushing against Stephen’s lips as he pulled back from their kiss a little, still thrusting slowly with his fingers while Stephen stroked him steadily to full hardness.

“Hmmm, Steph…”, Tony breathed, cheeks flushed beautifully as he met Stephen’s eyes, wanting but still so careful as he slowly removed his hand from between the sorcerer’s thighs. Chest overflowing with love and eager anticipation, Stephen nodded silently as he pulled Tony back on top of him, his weight a solid comfort as their lips met in a rasp of stubble. Tony moaned into the kiss, rubbing their erections together before pulling back to sit up as he straddled the sorcerer’s hips. Stephen flicked his fingers and a generous amount of lube appeared in Tony’s palm again, watching with bated breath as Tony sat back and stroked his own shaft to coat it. Tony noticed the way the sorcerer was watching him breathlessly, mouth hanging open a little despite himself.

“Like what you see, babe?”, Tony teased with one of his cocky grins, jutting his hips out as he continued to stroke himself, emphasizing his girth in a way that made overwhelming heat gather in Stephen’s groin.

“You’re ridiculous”, Stephen breathed even as he nodded, his arousal spiking as he watched Tony kneel between his legs, the soft swell of his belly pressing Stephen’s cock against his own stomach as he leaned forward to meet his lips. “Oh, I need you, darling”, he admitted, voicedeep and husky as he blushed. “I need you so badly.”

“Me too, sweetheart”, Tony muttered beside his ear, hot and heavy. “God, I’ve been waiting so long for this. Way too long.” He kissed Stephen’s lips tenderly, caressing his cheek as he looked down into his eyes. “But you tell me if you need us to stop, okay?”

“I will”, Stephen promised quickly, his mouth flickering in a breathless grin. “Sorcerer’s honour.” Tony chuckled against his mouth, breathing soft kisses against Stephen’s parted lips as he pressed against Stephen’s ass and slowly eased into him. Stephen forced himself to relax even as he inhaled sharply, hanging on to Tony’s shoulders as he adjusted to the foreign intrusion slowly. Tony eased the head of his cock just inside the outermost ring of muscle, shifting back and forth slowly as he moaned, keeping eye contact with Stephen the entire time.

“Is this okay?”, Tony asked, though he knew the answer as Stephen kissed his neck with shuddering breaths, tongue tracing his jaw and throat in silent encouragement. A pleased hum vibrated through Stephen’s chest as Tony reached deeper than before, slowly and carefully as he gave the sorcerer the chance to adjust to his girth properly. 

“You feel amazing”, Stephen gasped, slightly mortified to realize that he had voiced this thought out loud, but Tony just kissed his shoulder with a breathless grin. 

“Oh, so do you, honey. You’re incredible”, he praised easily, making the sorcerer’s chest swell, feeling truly appreciated. Stephen’s cheeks flushed heavily, overcome with pleasure as Tony moved inside of him, his pace steadily increasing as he held Stephen carefully, tenderly in his sturdy arms. Tony shifted his hips as he moved, hitting a spot that Stephen had never even felt before and he cried out in euphoric shock, burying his face in Tony’s shoulder as pleasure rolled through him. Stephen’s first casual forays into his newfound sexuality during his college years had certainly never involved any partners as experienced as Tony, now feeling as if Tony knew his body even better than he did, hit with building waves of euphoria every few seconds. 

“You okay?”, Tony asked, checking in as he brushed his fingers against Stephen’s cheek, their life force humming contentedly at their closeness.

“Hmmm, yeah. This is good, you’re so good”, Stephen assured breathlessly, looking back in his eyes, those brandy and winter blue eyes soft with loving concern. A warm flush had spread from Stephen’s face to his neck and upper chest as he hooked his ankles around Tony’s lower back, still holding onto his muscular shoulders as Tony thrusted with soft huffs and grunts, muttering sweet nothings into the sorcerer’s ear. Stephen let a hand wander down the side of Tony’s shirt, caressing the side of his stomach and softly slipping his shaking fingers under the fabric to reach the warm flesh underneath. He felt Tony balk at the contact slightly, meeting his eyes with an almost fearful look.

**_I love you. Let me love you, all of you_**, Stephen begged in his mind, and it must have shown through in his eyes as Tony relented and met him in a shaky kiss, sharing each other’s oxygen as Tony thrusted into him solidly, his gold Eye of Agomotto pendant swinging with the motion.

“Take care…of yourself too, babe.” Tony groaned as he reminded him and Stephen brushed his hand down Tony’s soft belly as he reached for his own throbbing cock, precum dripping from the tip as he jerked himself off messily. The effort was barely necessary as he felt himself climbing steadily towards his climax, looking back up to meet Tony’s eyes, soft with love and hazy with his own pleasure. Stephen was suddenly overwhelmed by the profundity of the moment, of their mutual ability to make each other feel this good, the trust that was required to be this open and vulnerable, cupping Tony’s silver stubbled jaw with one scarred hand as warm arousal built in his lower stomach.

“I-I…ah, T-Tony. I’m close”, Stephen gasped, heart swelling as Tony kissed his hand, intertwining the fingers of his good hand between Stephen’s shaking, scarred fingers and just holding it softly while pressing it against the comforter

“I’ve got you, Stephen. I’ve got you, baby”, Tony soothed, his arms shaking a little as he quickly approached his climax, thrusting harder in time with his own panting breaths. “Just let go. I’ve got you.” The hot tension coiling in Stephen’s lower stomach finally released, trembling as every muscle and nerve in his body contracted in an overwhelming rush of pleasure, knocking the breath out of him as he felt Tony begin to come at the same time. Tony groaned loudly, face pressed into the sorcerer’s shoulder, panting heavily as he continued to slowly thrust through his climax. Stephen could feel Tony’s belly clench with every rippling wave of pleasure, gasping as he released the held breaths his own orgasm had created, something inside him breaking pleasantly as he shuddered against the bed. Shaky hands carded through sweat-damp greying hair as he pressed breathless kisses to Tony’s temple, their life force pulsing as one vibrant living being. Another traitorous wave of emotion overwhelmed Stephen’s chest as he hugged Tony to him softly while pleasure flooded every inch of his body, parted lips panting beside Tony’s scarred ear. He was convinced that those three words were finally going to teeter heavily off the end of his tongue before they swayed back and fell down his throat again, choking him. 

He swallowed the threatening overwhelmed tears, and let his mind drift out of focus for once. They didn’t need words. Words would have been useless in the moment, only the sound of their breathing synchronized together, Stephen’s coming in shaky jolts occasionally as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. His body was starting to cool down a little after having every nerve ending on fire, enjoying the warmth of Tony’s body laying on his as he remained wrapped around the engineer like he was a life buoy in a stormy sea, like a warm lamp light that Stephen couldn’t help but cocoon himself around, as if he were a helpless, pitiful moth. Tony’s weight was comforting, pressing Stephen’s errant soul back into his chest while his stubble-raspy kisses grazed the sorcerer’s neck and shoulder. He pulled back, chest still gently heaving as he looked down into Stephen’s eyes, all gorgeous and flushed with his mismatched eyes, soft and grey and perfect. A moment of undeniable trust overwhelmed both of them, Tony’s soft chuckle like music to Stephen’s ears as they met in the softest of kisses.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful”, Stephen whispered against his lips and Tony seemed to accept the compliment for once, his smile lines creasing endearingly.

“So are you. But you’re still ridiculous”, Tony muttered breathlessly, because that was their routine, thought Stephen was still determined to break it one day. Tony pulled back then, the process almost agonizing though he eased out gently as the sorcerer bit back a poorly-concealed grimace. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey”, Tony cooed sympathetically, his good hand running up Stephen’s abdomen gently as he settled on the bed beside him. “You’re going to be sore tomorrow, unless you’ve got some sort of voodoo for this kind of thing.”

“Not quite”, Stephen huffed, making a fluid motion with one hand as he cleaned them both up with a quick spell. “I’ve got that kind of voodoo, though.” Tony chuckled, apparently not even surprised by this new use of the sorcerer’s magic, his expression relaxing peacefully as he laid propped up on one elbow, gently tracing Stephen’s forearm with his good hand. Stephen almost couldn’t breath past the lump in his throat that Tony’s loving gaze directed at him had created.

“Come here”, Tony said suddenly, voice thick with emotion as he pulled Stephen in against his chest. “Let me hold you”, he muttered into the sorcerer’s hair while Stephen was content to press his face against the fabric of his t shirt. He had never felt so loved before, listening to the steady beat of Tony’s heart, wrapping an arm around his back while he pressed himself securely against his soft belly. They were content to just hold each other, warm and vulnerable and open, too much joy and pleasure still coursing through Stephen’s system for him to feel even remotely tired. So he just revelled in the feeling of Tony’s fingers running through his hair slowly as he got his breath back. His mind was still swimming with ecstasy, trying to overanalyze everything that had happened, because that’s what his mind did, an annoying habit really. The fact alone that Tony had been so willing and vulnerable to give all of himself to Stephen was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It had never been so much the need for sex as a physical act, but more the emotional gratification of letting themselves be that vulnerable and trusting of each other, and that aspect of it was more attractive to Stephen than anything.

*****

After a while of just holding each other, Tony’s breathing had slowed and steadied out, and Stephen thought he had fallen asleep until he spoke.

“Stephers?”

“Yes, Anthony?”

“I need to tell you something.” His words sent Stephen’s heart pounding as he propped himself up on one elbow and Tony did the same, meeting the anticipation in Tony’s eyes as he tried to swallow his heart back into place. 

“Is this a pants-on sort of conversation?”, Stephen asked, trying to crack a grin, but his nerves won over.

“Maybe a blanket”, Tony compromised, pulling the patterned afghan from the foot of the bed up around them. Stephen somehow felt even more naked with only his lower half covered, maybe because Tony still had his shirt on. He reached up and started toying with his arc reactor pendant until Tony noticed and quickly took Stephen’s shaking hand in his good one, smiling softly as he brushed a gentle thumb over the scarred back of it.

“Okay, so…”, Tony started slowly, taking a steadying breath before he continued. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I guess now just…feels like the right time. And its not just because of the sex, though that definitely helped”, Tony tried to joke, but his smile fell as he inhaled deeply. “I thought…I thought I lost you today. Again”, he clarified, his voice husky and his good eye misty with tears. “And when you were leaving earlier…at the house…I almost said it…and then I thought you were gone and I-.”

“I love you too”, Stephen rasped out, barley holding back his tears. Tony smiled breathlessly as he met Stephen’s eyes, relieved tears trickling down his face.

“Way to steal my thunder, Strange”, Tony chuckled wetly, face crumbling as he pulled Stephen into a crushing hug. Stephen’s heart practically burst with love as he felt those familiar, strong arms wrap around him, collapsing into each other like two stars that had come too close, with no option but to become one joined celestial being. Tony’s cheek was prickly with stubble and damp with tears as he pressed his face against Stephen’s neck, breathing in his scent in a shuddering breath. “Oh, I love you, Stephen. So much. So, so much”, he whispered beside his ear, pressing a kiss to his neck as he held him tightly. “I’m glad I waited until we were finished, or that could have been really pathetic”, he muttered with a wet chuckle. 

“No, no, darling. Never”, Stephen assured, laughing through his tears. Oh, god, he was so happy his chest might actually burst, trying to gather Tony in his arms even more tightly, trembling hands clutching at his back. Tony pulled back suddenly, cheeks streaked with tears as he met Stephen’s eyes, wide and trusting and full of remorse. 

“I’m sorry I took so fucking long to-.”

“No”, Stephen begged. “Please don’t. Don't apologize for this. Not this.” He cupped Tony’s cheek gently with one hand, brushing tears away with a shaky thumb. “And it was me too, not just you. Don’t worry about the past, just enjoy this.”

**_Hypocrite_**, Stephen thought to himself bitterly, but the sweet sunshine of Tony’s smile was enough to warm his heart again, pulling him into a crushing, sweet, tender, longing kiss that felt like it would last forever. He couldn’t even distinguish the coffee taste of Tony’s tongue anymore, or the smell of cologne still clinging to his shirt. He just tasted and smelled like both of them, as if they were one and the same, and Stephen hugged him tightly as they kissed, laying on their sides and clinging to each other desperately but comfortably, and he was home. 

“I love you”, Stephen muttered against Tony’s lips, because he could now, and there was nothing more gratifying than that feeling, the lightness in his chest at being able to say those words. It had taken them a long time and a lot of heartache, but, _oh god_, it was more than worth it. It was worth Tony’s solid warmth in his arms, worth his soft hair that Stephen couldn’t help but press kisses against repeatedly, worth Tony’s raspy ‘I love you too’ against his cheek before placing a kiss there. It was worth falling asleep in each other’s arms like they always tended to do, having come through too much fractured universe and time to get to this moment, two wandering stars who had finally found each other.

*****

Waking up in a haze, it took several groggy minutes before Stephen realized that something was wrong. 

Blinking in the sunlight streaming through the window, he struggled to free his legs from the tangle of blankets as he rolled over, his heart stopping when he found that the other side of the bed was empty. The night before came rushing back, waves of euphoria in sharp contrast to the crippling fear he was feeling now. The hateful demons in Stephen’s brain told him there was a good chance that Tony had woken up and realized the mistake they had made by sleeping together, their sudden love confession that there was no way back from. That was it, he had been too emotional, made too much out of it, driven Tony away with the intensity of his ragged, touch-starved self screaming out for love and validation. He was too broken, too much

Stephen was on the verge of a panic attack when his other senses kicked in and he recognized the heavenly aroma of cooking breakfast sausages wafting up from the second floor kitchenette. Glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand which read 9:34 am, Stephen realized that it was far too late for Wong to be cooking breakfast and his chest lightened with a pang of hope. He also noted Levi’s marked absence from their usual spot draped over his desk chair, as he hurriedly untangled his legs from the blankets and swung his legs over the bed, the sudden movement sending a sharp jolt of pain through his sore rear. Stephen hissed at the sensitivity, sucking in a shaky breath before he stood from the bed a little more gingerly and padded carefully to his wardrobe to pull on a clean pair of boxers and track pants. Retrieving his bathrobe from the floor, he slipped it on and traipsed down the stairs, tying the front closed with the strings. The scent of sausages and now eggs wafted through the air even more strongly as Stephen reached the third floor, padding barefoot down the hall and down the tall set of stairs to the second floor, where the scent of food cooking hit him full force. He turned the corner with bated breath and was flooded with relief at the sight before him.

There was Tony, standing at the stove all soft and warm and real in Stephen’s favourite Guns N’ Roses t shirt and a pair of sweat pants that were too long for him, the sizzling of the pan and the smell of coffee filling the room as Levi hovered behind the engineer protectively. Stephen’s heart found its way back to its proper place in his chest, thumping soundly as Tony heard him approach and turned to meet the sorcerer with a special type of genuine smile that Stephen had only recently realized was reserved exclusively for him. 

“Good morning, sunshine”, Tony grinned widely, his good eye sparkling in the golden morning light. “I know sleeping beauty doesn’t like waking up on her own, but I was starving. Just cooking up a little something for us”, he explained, waving his spatula at the pan of fried eggs and sausages. “I’ve got some tea on for you, or there’s coffee going if you want something that will actually wake you up.” Tony paused as if he had suddenly realized something. “That coffee maker wasn’t there before, was it?”, he asked, his brow furrowing with a suspicious inkling. 

“Wong likes you”, Stephen explained with a grin, overwhelmed with love for this man as he listened to him ramble, so warm and alive. He was so beautiful in all his sleepy, grey, dishevelled imperfection, hair soft and still slightly damp from the shower he must have just taken.

**_You’re still here_**, Stephen didn’t say though his brain supplied it, since he knew the comment would fill Tony with insurmountable guilt. 

“Aren’t I supposed to be making you breakfast?”, Stephen asked with a grin as he sidled up beside Tony, basking in his presence as he inhaled the aroma of the cooking food appreciatively. Not able to help himself, the sorcerer stepped closer to hug Tony from behind, wrapping slender arms around his soft middle and resting his chin gently on his shoulder. Tony practically purred at the contact, let himself relax back against his broad chest while their life force thrummed with contentment. Levi hung back, hovering close but still giving them space, especially after Tony probably had to tell them off for constantly clinging to him as they had been lately.

“I thought I’d be nice, since you were sleeping in for once”, Tony said, turning his head a little to grin at him. “Did I wear you out last night, big boy?” Stephen chuckled deep in his chest, softly kissing the side of Tony’s warm neck as his scarred hands still rested on his stomach.

“Hmm, maybe”, he mumbled against Tony’s shoulder. “Though you did most of the work.” 

“You did plenty, sweetheart. Besides, you’re always taking care of me, I wanted to do the same for you”, Tony assured quietly with a playful grin, though something in his eyes softened. “How are you feeling, anyway?”

“Sore”, Stephen admitted. “But nothing I can’t handle. Nothing you can’t make up for with breakfast”, he teased lightly. “Trouble is, you can’t cook.”

“Neither can you. What a pickle we’re in”, Tony purred, a twinkle in his eyes as he met Stephen’s, accepting a tender kiss on the lips as he cupped the sorcerer’s cheek with his good hand. Stephen was drowning in love, half terrified that this wasn’t real, that it was just him daydreaming one of the fourteen million possibilities, some sort of sick fever dream that he would soon wake up from. But then the opened his eyes and Tony was still there, he was still solid and real in his arms, reassuring himself as he pulled back after one last peck on Tony’s cheek. 

“You know”, he drawled as he went to pour himself a mug of chai that Tony had steeping on the stove top. “Wong’s going to see you wearing my clothes and know you spent the night.”

“I don’t care what your grouchy librarian friend thinks”, Tony said almost wistfully, looking over to give Stephen an incredulous look. “I don’t care if the whole world knows I slept with Stephen Strange. I was thinking about shouting it from the rooftop after breakfast, what do you think?” Stephen laughed deeply, something he never would have thought possible the morning after such a severe anxiety attack, shaking his head slightly as he stirred honey into his tea. 

“How about we skip that part, hmm? Just for today?”

“So I can yell about it another time?”, Tony grinned teasingly as he started plating up their breakfast. “Wait, does that means you’ll sleep with me again in the future? The near future, I’m hoping.” Stephen quickly recognized the serious question under the guise of a joke, always fifty feet away from his true emotions, because that’s just what Tony did. A flicker of pity mixed with empathy in Stephen’s chest as he heard Tony’s insecurity surfacing under his easy-going mask. He set his tea back down on the counter, meeting Tony’s deceivingly vulnerable eyes as he slipped his arms around his waist, pulling him close so their bodies were flush against each other.

“You’re ridiculous. And I love you”, Stephen rasped as Tony gave him a measured look, reaching up to cup the sorcerer’s cheeks softly in both of his hands, so loving and so desperately in need of love, eyes wide and innocent as he met Stephen’s.

“I love you too, wizard”, he muttered against Stephen’s lips before pulling him into a soul-affirming kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolutely starved for validation so please leave a comment with your favourite part(s) from this chapter <3<3<3
> 
> The explicit scene wasn’t even originally in the outline for this chapter but, like I’ve said before, the boys have minds of their own sometimes and they kind of went, “It has been TWENTY fucking chapters, can we just do it already?!” So thank Stephen and Tony for that scene if you’ve been waiting for it as much as they have.
> 
> Tony turns his phone watch back on to find twenty missed texts from Peter, and he has a mini heart attack, but they’re all memes.
> 
> Wong’s just like ‘oh they fucking’


	21. Not All That’s Gold (Titanium Alloy) Glitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As well as things have been going with Tony and Stephen's newfound life together, nothing is perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “He finds broken souls and collects them, packing them in around himself to distract him from how broken he truly is.”
> 
> Another Peter POV scene was way overdue, so here ya go…
> 
> Peak Supreme Iron fam is them all wearing each other’s clothes <3 And I will NEVER get tired of ‘strange’ puns, just fyi.
> 
> The boys get therapy. All of them. Finally. They fucking need it. Bonding *clap* through *clap* shared *clap* trauma.  
I think this is Gerald’s first official appearance in this fic besides a mention, so sorry about that Gerald.
> 
> (“Oh, darling, only you can ease my mind.” This song works for not just Stephen and Tony, but for Peter with both of them as well. This song is so good for them, and works for Tony’s nightmare in the last chapter too)
> 
> Ease My Mind - Ben Platt
> 
> Most days I wake up with a pit in my chest  
There are thoughts that I can't put to rest  
There's a worry that I can't place
> 
> Most nights, I am restless and quiet won't come  
So I lay there and wait for the sun  
There's a trouble that won't show its face
> 
> You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise  
I make sense to the madness when I listen to your voice
> 
> Darling, only you can ease my mind  
Help me leave these lonely thoughts behind  
When they pull me under, and I can feel my sanity start to unwind  
Darling, only you can ease my mind
> 
> I'll admit, for a moment I felt so afraid  
Just to show you the mess that I made  
There are pieces I usually hide
> 
> But when you collect me with your steady hand  
With a language that I understand  
I feel put back together inside
> 
> You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise  
I make sense of the madness when I listen to your voice
> 
> Oh Darling, only you can ease my mind  
Oh help me leave these lonely thoughts behind  
When they pull me under, and I can feel my sanity start to unwind  
Darling, only you can ease my mind  
Darling, only you can ease my mind  
Help me leave these lonely thoughts behind  
When they pull me under, and I can feel my sanity start to unwind  
Darling, only you can ease my mind
> 
> (END NOTES HAVE CHAPTER SPOILERS)

“Hey, no fair, Doc! I wasn’t ready for that!”

“Oh, my mistake. I’ll just wait for you to be ready next time”, Stephen drawled sarcastically, grinning at the perplexed scowl on Peter’s face. 

“Come on, there’s no way I could have blocked that”, the teen insisted, arms held up in front of himself and at the ready, now more wary about blocking the sorcerer’s next swing. “You’re like a foot taller than me.” He let out an indignant squeak that turned into a playful snarl as Stephen came at him again, blocking the taller man’s elbow as it rushed by his head.

“Oh, suck it up, Underoos”, Tony said with a bark of laughter. “It’s not his fault he’s so tree-like.” Tony smiled roguishly in response to the mischievous glower from the sorcerer, a look that said he would be getting Tony back later for that one. 

It was a sunny Saturday in late April and, deciding to take advantage of the nice weather, Tony had dragged the kids out to the front lawn to make a half-hearted effort of teaching them martial arts, disturbing Stephen’s afternoon meditation in the process. The sorcerer had been quick to join in after Morgan interrupted his peaceful cross-legged pose in his favourite place under the willow by the edge of the lake. The stray dog who was no longer much of a stray (and quickly dubbed ‘Taj’ after the kids had heckled Stephen for ‘cool magic names’), watched them from his usual place under the same willow, having gotten extremely attached to the kids especially, even in the four short weeks since Stephen had first fed him on the steps of the front porch. After many mornings of building trust with hand-fed meals and gentle pats from everyone (but mostly Tony), along with a much needed bath and brush, the ragged stray had been slowly incorporated into their mismatched little family without a hitch.

Taj had whined quietly in concern when Stephen and Tony had started gently sparring with each other, the kids (Morgan and Peter, not Harley) yelling out encouragement until the sorcerer ‘won’ and then invited Peter to a quick lesson. Tony had convinced Peter to tolerate a few quick lessons, but he was happy to step back if his partner was more successful at convincing the teen to join in. It had been through one of their own playful wrestling matches in bed that Tony and Stephen had discovered the other knew Wing Chun, proceeding to talk for hours about their own training in that particular form of martial arts. Tony had been unsuccessful so far in getting the kids to join in their playful sparring sessions on the front lawn, but today he was determined. But his plans hadn’t exactly been going well so far. 

Tony was currently trying to entice Morgan into learning a few simple moves, though his daughter was more interested in wrestling with Harley. The twenty-one-year-old was deftly and gently parrying her attacks as he lay on his back in the grass, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his face while he swatted at Morgan softly with his sweater paws. Sighing in fond exasperation, Tony couldn’t help but smile at the scene before him, his heat lifting in the way an occasional chuckle from Harley mixed in with Morgan’s giddy giggles as they rolled around in the grass. It took a lot to crack Harley’s armour, especially after the embittered death of his alcoholic mother, but Morgan had a way of worming her way into people’s hearts in record time. Out of anyone, Stephen could probably attest to that most strongly. 

Hearing one of those rare, deep full-belly laughs from said sorcerer, Tony looked up to see that Peter’s Wing Chun lesson was going only slighter better than that of the other two kids. The teen was lying flat on his back in the grass, gasping for breath as the wind had been knocked out of him, while Stephen’s head was thrown back in surprised laughter at Peter’s sudden mishap. Taj ran over to Peter immediately, ears pricked in concern as he licked the boy’s face, tail wagging in a blur of fluff as he was given thankful, reassuring pats in return.

“What’d you do to my kid, Houdini?”, Tony asked, concerned until Peter pushed himself up on his elbows, unharmed, albeit slightly red-faced. “I didn’t give you permission to knock the vinegar out of him.”

“He didn’t do anything”, Peter admitted quietly, grabbing Stephen’s proffered arm as the sorcerer helped pull him to his feet. “I tripped on my own foot.”

“I thought Spider Man was supposed to be incredibly coordinated”, Stephen said seriously before he broke into a grin again, wrapping an arm around the disgruntled teen’s shoulders as he pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “I’m teasing, spiderling. You’re doing very well, you’re just usually a little more nimble.”

“You’re one to talk”, Peter said, playfully pushing the sorcerer away as grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You weren’t exactly the picture of grace tripping over Levi this morning.” Stephen’s expression became quietly peeved and slightly murderous as Tony burst into laughter at the teen’s quick comeback, referring to when the good doctor had nearly stumbled down the entire flight of stairs on his way down to start breakfast that morning. His foot had caught on the edge of his cloak, then ironically saved by the same guilty relic. Levi had been more than apologetic, hanging around Stephen like a beaten puppy even after he had assured them of his forgiveness over a dozen times. In accordance, Levi had been politely asked to stay in the house while Stephen practiced martial arts, if only to keep from accidentally tripping him again in their clinginess. 

“Not that it takes much to knock either of you out”, Harley mused loudly from under his hood, never missing the opportunity to egg Peter or the sorcerer on.

“By all means, Harley. Be my guest if you want to take on someone other than the five-year-old”, Stephen challenged cooly, adjusting the cuff of his rolled-up sleeve. Harley immediately reached up to pull his hood off his face and let Morgan roll off of him, standing up and stalking across the grass to stand in front of the sorcerer.

“Maybe that’s not the best idea, Steph”, Tony interjected quickly. “I hate to say it, but I see a lot more than pride getting hurt if you two go at it.”

“We’ll be fine”, Stephen assured levelly, eyeing the way Harley had widened his stance as they faced each other. Despite the sorcerer’s calm reassurance, Tony felt a sliver of anxiety work its way into his chest. Tony knew that fiery, coiled-spring challenge in Harley’s eyes because he had seen it directed at him so many times, but he also knew the deadly calm and quiet of Stephen’s expression, and the way he was holding his shoulders was an immediate tell for all the restrained power held in his deceivingly slim frame. Probably feeling it wise to give the two men some space, Peter came to drop onto the grass beside Morgan and Tony, the little girl crawling into his lap immediately. Following Peter automatically, Taj came to join their small gathering on the grass, whining in worried anticipation as he sat beside Tony.

“Doc and Harley gonna do marble arts, Petey?”, Morgan asked innocently, looking up at her concerned brother.

“Hopefully that’s all they do”, Peter replied with an amused snort, cocooning her in his arms gently.

“Anyone who bleeds has to do dishes for a week!”, Tony called over as he leaned back in the grass, ruffling Taj’s ears comfortingly as the dog pressed against his side. He propped himself up on his elbows, chuckling softly as he watched Stephen and Harley facing each other, ready to distill the situation if necessary. 

“What?”, Harley asked, turning to give Tony an incredulous look. “That doesn’t even make any- Oof!” There was a dull thud as Stephen’s elbow connected with the boy’s ribs and Harley staggered back before quickly regaining his footing, assuming a defensive stance as he blocked the sorcerer’s next hit. Tony watched as the cold indifference on Stephen’s face quickly turned to mildly impressed amusement as Harley exacted a surprisingly accurate blow, a result of his past Wing Chun lessons with Tony. The principles of the technique allowed strong punches and kicks to be redirected with soft movements to externalize the hits, avoiding them and creating an opening for explosive attacks, something both Stephen and Tony could execute well despite their respective disabilities. They continued to pass deftly blocked blows between them, matched hit for hit as their pace quickened, and Tony found himself relaxing as he recognized that Stephen wasn’t holding back for Harley’s sake, but his movements were all so measured and controlled that neither of them were in danger of hurting each other. 

As expected, Harley’s fighting technique was muscle and rage-driven, like a young lion using speed and blunt force to try and wear out his opponent. Stephen was the exact opposite, fluid precision guiding his shots and blocks like a well-run clockwork machine gliding through a predetermined but dynamic program. Besides his considerable experience, Stephen had the advantage of height as he pushed down on Harley to unbalance him, the boy spinning away in order to get out from under his offensive weight. As Tony and Stephen had discussed many times during and after their own matches, Wing Chun lent itself very well to Stephen’s inability to use his hands in a fight as the style of martial arts focused on use of the elbows to defend and attack, something Harley was quickly learning as the sorcerer jabbed and deflected shots as fast as Harley could dish them out. Peter and Morgan were an enthusiastic audience, though decidedly biased as they clapped and cheered loudly whenever Stephen landed a particularly good shot. Tony counteracted this by encouraging Harley without being too obvious about it, as the twenty-one-year-old didn’t take well to feeling like he was being patronized. 

“Is that all you got, wizard?”, Harley growled, in clear juxtaposition of the panic that was flickering through his eyes at the sorcerer’s expert attacks. Stephen’s response was silent as he jabbed at the exposed, sensitive area between Harley’s upper shoulder and neck, the boy biting back a yelp at the contact. But his own downfall clearly drove Harley on as he stepped forward and connected his elbow with the taller man’s ribs in a small moment of triumph.

Tony could see the pride overwhelming the momentary pain Stephen felt at the connecting shot to his ribcage, clearly pleased that his plan to get Harley to open up a little was working, even if his methods were a little unorthodox. After successfully landing a hit on the sorcerer, Harley got cocky and began to take large, swinging hits which Stephen easily dodged, gently tapping his foot against the side of the younger man’s knee to send him crumbling to the ground. Harley was barely fazed as he was back on his feet in an instant, seemingly energized by the challenge Stephen’s skill presented. Tony’s interest also piqued as he watched the former neurosurgeon combine his fighting skills with his knowledge of human anatomy, flawlessly pinpointing weak points that would have been devastating if he had executed his hits at full force. He was beautiful to watch, really, a flowing force of lithe muscle and accuracy, something Tony had experienced first hand while sparring with him, but never as a spectator. And Tony would be lying if he said that Stephen’s exacting knowledge of anatomy paired with his precise fighting technique, the power and control he exuded, wasn’t a bit of a turn on.

A loud grunt from Harley distracted Tony from admiring the sorcerer as Stephen landed another hit on the side of his neck, though Harley just grinned and fought back even harder. Beating a disgruntled youth in a physical altercation wouldn’t be the best way to go with gaining the affections of most kids, but Harley wasn’t most kids. Tony could practically see Harley’s respect for the sorcerer growing by the second as the boy handed shots back as good as he was getting them, a challenging grin sliding its way onto Harley’s face as he panted and delivered a neck shot that would have been damaging if Stephen hadn’t blocked it at the last second.

“Boys!”, Tony scolded loudly as he sat up, ready to jump between them if necessary. Taj barked in response to Tony yelling, practically prancing on the spot with anxiety as he watched two of his people fighting.

“We’re fine, Dad! Keep your shirt on!”, Harley panted back. Tony slumped back on his elbows in the grass again, disarmed with one word like a punch to the chest. 

Harley had never called him ‘Dad’ before. He had never asked and Harley had never brought it up, though Tony would be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But he had always been ‘Tony’ to the scruffy-haired kid from Tennessee, along with other colourful insults reserved specifically for the engineer, and Tony had been fine with that. He had taken that step with Peter, the changing in titles from ‘Mr. Stark’ to ‘Dad’ because he knew how much he wanted it, how natural it would have felt anyway, but obviously that same want and need had been buried under Harley’s aloof exterior for the past decade without Tony even realizing it. Guilt intermixed with shock before the swirling feeling in Tony’s chest settled on joyful contentment. Harley was his kid in every other way, what he called him was just a particular, or so Tony had thought.

The sparring match ended as abruptly as it had begun as Stephen straightened up from his defensive stance, panting slightly as he held a shaking hand out to the boy as a sign of truce. Sweat dripping down his forehead, storm blue eyes appraised the sorcerer’s face levelly before Harley gripped the scarred hand in his own gently, shaking it a few times before dropping it. Stephen seemed pleased by the exchange, turning and giving Tony a rakish wink as he walked over to his small audience.

“You need a shower”, Tony said, nose wrinkling as he stood to peck the sorcerer’s lips, noting the salt of them appreciatively despite his portrayed distaste for his partner’s sweaty state.

“Hmm, gonna get some water first, Dad”, Stephen panted lightly with a teasing grin, squeezing Tony’s ass quickly as he brushed past him to pad up the front steps and into the house. Tony turned and looked after him, gaping slightly in faux shock at his brazenness, but mostly at his keen observation of Harley’s slip up. 

The sorcerer really didn’t miss anything, despite how emotionally dense he was with most people, namely strangers. But he was incredibly in tune to his family, something Tony had noticed with growing appreciation as the sorcerer had attuned himself to each of the kids, catering how he treated them based on their personalities, strengths, and comfort level with him. Stephen had mentioned quite a while ago to Tony that he had never expected to have kids, and didn’t think himself to be very good with them, but all Tony could do was assure him over and over that Morgan and Peter loved him to bits, and Harley was certainly warming up to him. All in all, it just made Tony that much more in love with him.

Said kids had wandered down to the lake with the dog, daring each other to dip their toes in the water near the shore of the early spring-chilled lake. Harley rolled his jeans up, already barefoot, and waded into the water to dunk his sweaty head in the cool lake, earning shocked giggles from Morgan when he flung his head back up and sprayed her and Peter with water. This of course lead to a splash fight in the shallows, cupped hands and Harley’s crocs being used to fling water at each other while Morgan screeched with delight and shock, Taj barking from the shore with equal amounts concern and playfulness.

Tony chuckled as he watched them for a while before trailing Stephen back up to the house. Clambering up the front steps, Tony stepped onto the porch just as he heard the sound of tires crunching down the gravel drive, head whipping around to spot a large, black pick up truck appearing through the poplars which bordered the winding driveway. Tony tensed a little as he read the licence plate and tried to peer through the front windshield, neither of which were familiar or discernible thanks to the heavy tint on the windows, his mind racing through the list of people who were most likely to own a truck like that. The number of people who knew the cabin’s location was an extremely short list, mostly limited to Tony’s family and closest friends. Unfortunately, since the Battle for Earth, that list had grown by at least three people. The truck came to a stop and Tony glanced reflexively over at the kids who were still playing in the lake, focusing hard on keeping the repulsor mechanism in his cybernetic arm locked. 

Then the front doors of the truck opened and Steve and Natasha were stepping out onto the gravel, and suddenly it was a year ago, and half the world was dead, Peter and Stephen were dead, and Tony still had two arms and two eyes. Panic gripped his chest immediately as memories came back to drown him, swirling him in a whirlpool of anxiety and grief as he faced down the familiar face of the blond man approaching him. Familiar, but also from another lifetime. Tony numbly registered Taj barking as the dog ran up from the lake to the porch, coming to stand beside Tony with his hackles up warily. The back doors of the truck opened too, doing nothing to quell Tony’s anxiety as Wilson and Barnes climbed out as well, following Steve and Natasha like an obedient pair of guard dogs as the four of them walked up the side steps of the porch.

“Tony”, Steve greeted levelly like he always did, with that hard, suspicious glint behind his clear blue eyes like there always was. “It’s been a while.”

“Sure has”, Tony agreed, trying to swallow past the desperate panic in his throat, feeling ridiculously vulnerable as he faced four pairs of hard eyes staring back at him. “I see it took you a year to find the place again. Did you lose your compass?” They hadn't seen each other since Steve’s polite obligatory visit to Tony in the hospital right after his Snap, though the sick feeling in Tony’s chest reminded him of why that was the case.

“Right. Like I said, it’s been a while”, Steve agreed with a flicker of a steely grin attempting to be friendly, ignoring the passive aggressive undertones to Tony’s words as usual. “So we thought we’d pay you a visit, see how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been fine”, Tony said, the sandpaper in his throat reducing him to monosyllables. His good hand dropped to land in Taj’s furry ruff, as the dog had stopped barking, but Tony could still feel the rumbling growl travelling through the huge mutt, too low for the human ear to pick up.

“And you’ve been ignoring our calls, so it seems”, Natasha added, red lips quirking as she came up beside Steve. That hadn’t changed either. No greeting, now ‘hey, how’ve you been since you almost died?’, just cut right to the chase. And she was always ready to back Steve up, no matter the situation, especially when it came to ganging up on Tony, which would explain why she was here. 

“So it seems”, Tony agreed, feeling like a rat cornered in an alley by a bunch of cats more than anything. He stood facing them without any armour on, Stephen’s Guns N’ Roses t shirt he was wearing the closest thing to it, and he felt very small despite Taj having stepped forward. The dog had placed his large, furry body in between Tony and the intruders, and Tony kept his good hand on his collar, as both a comfort to himself and a precaution. “But maybe I’ve been busy, or I changed my number, or I’ve been having too much fun ghosting you kids. Hard to tell at this point, and I’d tell you which one it is, but then that would just take all the fun out of guessing.” 

Tony was fully aware of his nervous motor mouth kicking in as anxiety gripped his chest, trying to keep the telltale panic out of his eyes as he met Steve’s eyes again. He could see and feel the ex-solider’s iceberg eyes drifting over him, surveying his appearance critically without being too obvious. Tony knew what he looked like, what Steve must be thinking, not that he cared, he told himself. There were the scars, the metal arm, the blind eye, the weight gain, a whole myriad of things Steve could have picked to criticize. Tony squirmed uncomfortably despite himself, wishing he had something to play with in his hands to make the fidgeting less obvious. Ah, right. His good hand found his Eye of Agomotto pendant as he crossed his cybernetic arm across his chest defensively, resting the elbow of his good arm on it.

“You look good, Tony”, Steve commented idly, eyebrows lifting a little in a way that might have been sincere. “All things considered.” Never mind. 

“Yeah, well, did you guys come over just to talk about how I’m still the hottest Avenger or was there something else you had in mind?” 

“You know why we’re here”, Natasha said casually, voice light and honey sweet in a way that made Tony’s stomach turn. Natasha was referring, of course, to her and Steve’s recent calls about their planned celebration for the anniversary of his Snap, which just so happened to be in ten days exactly. There hadn’t been any kind of official celebration last year because it seemed inappropriate to everyone with Tony being injured as he had been, something Tony was sure had to be pointed out by Rhodey. Even after a year, the idea of having any sort of gathering in recognition of one of the worst days of his life, one of his biggest sources of trauma, was enough to make Tony light-headed with nausea. He hadn’t explained this thought process to the disgruntled group standing in front of him, but he had figured that his silence in response to their phone calls and voice messages would be enough for them to get the message. Apparently not.

“Yeah, well, I told you guys before. Last year, actually”, Tony said, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. “I’m not interested in your ‘we-saved-the-world’ party, so you can get back in your big, shiny truck and motor on back out of here.” He knew why they were here after a year of no contact, no checking up on him during his recovery because, as usual, they wanted something out of him. They wanted him for the publicity, to be able to say, ‘Look we have Iron Man, Tony Stark, Earth’s Saviour at our anniversary party for when we saved the world. Aren’t we great?’

“Come on, Stark. Don’t be such a stick in the mud. We just wanna appreciate you for what you did”, Wilson piped in and Tony could barely contain the scowl on his face. He remembered liking the ‘Falcon’ at one point, and he and Rhodey had been moderately close, but he had no love lost for anyone who had become a fugitive from the law alongside Steve’s misguided morals. Despite this, he couldn’t help but notice just how close Barnes and Wilson were standing together, though still behind Steve, wondering vaguely if there was something going on there, but then quickly deciding that he didn’t care.

“You’re not usually one to turn down the opportunity to party, Tony”, Natasha said as she leaned back against the railing, and Tony hated the way her voice acquired a knowing edge. Memories of palladium poisoning and what he had thought would be his last birthday filtered through his mind, always with the sharp-eyed redhead in the background and Tony had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat.

“Yeah, well, things change, don’t they?”, Tony replied shortly, struggling to keep his voice steady, gripping his pendant tightly to keep from grabbing his aching left wrist. Taj had sat down in front him like a pillar of fur and muscle, neck craned as his one good eye was trained on Steve’s face during the entire conversation.

“But they don’t have to”, Steve said, as if he were making a profound point, and Tony wanted to scream.

**_You tore us apart. You chose him over all of us_**, Tony wanted to yell at him, having to concentrate hard on not glancing at Barnes, who was still standing off Steve’s right shoulder like a well-trained German shepherd. But he couldn’t care about that so much anymore, finding that he didn’t as he regarded the small group in front of him indifferently despite his anxiously pounding heart. This wasn’t his life anymore, and he was glad of it.

“Sorry to disappoint, but you guys aren’t gonna change my mind”, Tony responded, still twirling the small gold Eye between his fingers. “I’ve got different priorities now, pretty similar to the ones I had when you decided to barge in here last year, actually.”

“I can see that”, Steve said, nodding to where the kids were still mucking around at the edge of the lake, though Peter had seemed to notice the intruders and was watching Tony diligently from the shore, eyes trained on his dad for any signs of distress. “But the kids can come too, if you want. They’ll want to help you celebrate what you did, the sacrifice you made for everyone. Don’t you?” 

He didn’t. He really fucking _didn’t_ and Tony was fairly certain he was going to either throw up or pass out if Steve mentioning ‘celebrating’ his near death one more time. That day meant so much, but certainly not in the way Steve and his former rogues thought. That was the day he hadn’t just snapped Thanos and his army to dust, but it was the day he had made sure Peter and Morgan had a safe world to grow up in, the day Stephen had literally split himself in two to save his life, the day that someone finally decided that Tony Stark was worth risking their life to save. 

Oh, god, Steve was still talking.

“We didn’t get the chance to celebrate last year and-.”

“Excuse me for not being up to it then, I was a little busy trying not to die”, Tony interjected bitterly, his entire body shaking with the effort of standing and not just dissolving into himself, chest burning hot with panic and hatred. “I’m not interested in ‘celebrating’ that day, so I’m not asking anymore, now I’m telling you guys. Get off my porch”, Tony bit out, giving up his resolve and squeezing his aching left wrist in the crushing grip of his own cybernetic hand. Barnes seemed to notice the movement and something like pity or empathy passed over his face, neither of which Tony was interested in. 

“You’re really going to be like this, Tony?”, Steve asked, looking offended. “Can’t you just bury your pride for ten seconds and-?”

“Tony, did you hide the chai in the fridge again? I can’t find-.” 

All eyes turned to meet the sorcerer poking his head out of the front screen door, who froze as his gaze drifted from Steve to Tony, and back again. No one spoke as Stephen opened the door fully and stepped out on to the porch, and Tony practically shook with relief as the sorcerer came to stand beside him protectively, the warmth of his life force swamping Tony’s panic-tensed chest. Levi dropped from their place on Stephen’s shoulders to wrap around Tony instead, their collar brushing against his scarred cheek in an attempt at gently comforting him. He hated how vulnerable he felt with the physical manifestation of six plus years of trauma trespassing on his porch, but Stephen’s steady presence beside him was enough for his pounding heart to slow a little. Amusement almost trumped Tony’s anxiety as he watched Steve’s gaze flicker between he and Stephen with growing confusion, glancing towards the screen door as if wondering who else Tony had hidden away in the cabin.

“Strange, right?”, Steve asked, visibly burying his shock and confusion as he extended a hand towards the sorcerer, Taj’s ruff bristling silently at the movement. Stephen met the ex-soldier’s outstretched palm with cool disdain, his own hands shoved in the pockets of his pants the second he’d seen their visitors. Tony recognized the action as an old method for hiding his scars, a little reminder of how comfortable the sorcerer was with their little family seeing as he never felt the need to hide his hands around them.

“Right”, Stephen nodded, sidling closer to Tony so their arms brushed together, no doubt sensing his slowly dwindling panic through their life force link. “And you’re here asking favours from Tony, because…?” Steve blinked once and dropped his hand quickly, becoming defensive in record time.

“We weren’t asking for a favour. We’re putting together an anniversary celebration for what Tony did and-.”

“And I don’t want it!”, Tony burst out, causing Natasha to actually take a step back, feeling hot tears prickle the backs of his eyes as nausea surged up from the pit in his stomach. Taj pinned his ears back against his head as Tony yelled and looked up at him in worry, but didn’t move from in front of him. “Okay?! I don’t give a fuck what you guys do, just leave me out of it!” Everyone looked shocked at Tony’s outburst except Stephen, who could feel his partner’s anger and grief coursing through his own body, Levi rippling with worry before wrapping around Tony a little tighter.

“Tony”, Steve said as he took a persuasive step towards him, as if Tony were the one who was being unreasonable. “We were just trying to do something nice for you, it wasn’t-.”

“Were you, Rogers? Really?”, Stephen asked, his voice reaching the commanding baritone that he almost never used around Tony and the kids, green eyes narrowed coldly as he raised a brow. “He said he doesn’t want it, so leave him out of it. Listen to him for once and get off his property.” Tony could hear the barely suppressed resentment under the surface of Stephen’s smooth rumbling voice, seeing the checked rage in the tension of the sorcerer’s broad shoulders even as his own heart crumbled with gratitude at having someone stand beside him, defending him.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”, Steve asked suddenly, squinting suspiciously at Stephen as his focus shifted from Tony to his new target, appraising the sorcerer’s appearance with a critical eye. He obviously wasn’t impressed or intimidated by what he saw. “Tony, you’re all buddy-buddy with a wizard now, a magic user, but you don’t have time to chat with a couple old friends?” Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Natasha beat him to speaking.

“How’s Pepper anyway, Tony? Is she here?”, the redhead asked like she knew, hard green eyes drawing over Stephen critically because she did know. Tony could only gape, being pulled in about fifty different directions by his emotions, watching as Steve’s eyes widened marginally, connecting dots as he looked between Tony’s face and the tall sorcerer glowering beside him. Tony and Pepper had kept their divorce quiet, and Tony certainly hadn’t given Steve a phone call about it, though he couldn’t describe the flurry of emotion he felt as his former teammate became privy to his new relationship status.

“Not that that’s any of your business”, Stephen pointed out dryly. “But I think you all need to listen to what Tony asked of you and kindly leave. Now.”

“Oh, come on, Strange”, Steve goaded easily, reaching a hand out to clap on Tony’s shoulder and Tony winced at the sudden motion despite himself. “We’ve known Tony a hell of a lot longer than you have. And I know he can speak for himself.” 

The ex-soldier’s hand never landed on its target as it became frozen mid-air, a ripple of sparkling auburn energy swirling around his wrist and holding it in place inches away from Tony’s shoulder. Taj flinched at the movement, looking about ready to lunge at Steve and Levi tensed as if in preparation to strangle Steve if necessary, but didn’t move otherwise, as if they had known that Stephen was one step ahead of them and everyone else. Tony could feel Natasha, Wilson, and Barnes tense up without needing to look at them, panic lodging itself in his throat until he couldn’t breathe. Steve met Stephen’s face in shocked offence, but the sorcerer hadn’t moved, hands still shoved in the pockets of his joggers as he met Steve’s eyes coolly. 

“Leave”, Stephen repeated evenly, tension singing through the air like the crackling of the magic stirring around Steve’s wrist, dissipating in a dusting of bronze energy as the sorcerer allowed him to pull his arm back. Tony was fairly certain his heart was about to burst from the mix of anger, grief, nausea, and anxiety ripping brutally through his system, bracing an arm against the empty air beside him in an attempt to steady the spinning world. Stephen’s hand found his, brushing against Levi and interlocked their fingers discreetly between them while Tony tried desperately to control the shaking of his left wrist. 

“We used to be friends, Tony”, Steve said, that pathetic golden retriever look taking over his face, resorting to victimization now that he couldn’t place the blame on Tony directly. 

“Things change”, Tony responded in a rasp, his voice sounding like it was coming from someone else. “People change.”

Steve shot Tony an ironic look of betrayal as he turned and gestured for the other three to go back to the truck. He glanced back at Tony, looking like he was about to speak again before deciding against it when he met Stephen’s icy glare again and Peter came up on Tony’s other side, the teen standing close enough that his shoulder brushed protectively against his dad’s cybernetic arm. The three of them stood there, shoulder-to-shoulder, a haunted replica of their first meeting on that goddamned donut space ship as they watched Steve and the others climb into the truck. They didn’t break their family front until the pick up had disappeared out of sight and ear shot down the winding driveway. Taj never moved from his place in front of Tony, watching the truck with his human family members until he was satisfied the intruders were gone.

“You okay, Dad?”

Peter’s voice drew Tony out of his own head, still shaking a little as he turned to meet familiar, concerned eyes watching him, the teen’s hand brushed against his cybernetic fingers comfortingly. He wasn’t, he wasn’t even remotely okay, but he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, especially not with Morgan coming up behind them now with Harley in tow.

“Daddy’s friends came again?”, Morgan asked with a furrowed brow, coming up the steps as Tony’s own brown eyes looked back at him, too knowing and wise for her age. Tony’s oxygen-deprived brain couldn’t bear to form an audible response as he nodded, catching the suspiciously worried look on Harley’s face as well, though he tried to hide it under his mess of still-damp hair. 

“Dad’s okay”, Stephen assured them all gently, though he pretended to direct the answer solely at Morgan. “Why don’t you three head in and get some soup and grilled cheese going? We’ll have a bit of a late lunch”, he suggested, shooing them all with his free hand through the screen door and into the kitchen, with Taj trailing after them diligently. “We’ll be right there, just give us a minute.” Tony was grateful for Stephen directing them inside; he hated for any of the kids to see him like this, panicked and wide-eyed trembling while his body forgot how to breathe properly. Too many memories had flooded back the second Steve climbed out of that truck, pulling him back to a year ago in a split second. Five years of grieving Peter, the gut-wrenching anticipation of creating time travel and retrieving the stones, his Snap, and then just pain. Pain, so much pain, endless pain. And then Stephen.

“Tony”, Stephen said suddenly, simultaneously pulling Tony out of his quickly-spiralling thoughts and making him realize that he had been crushing the sorcerer’s hand in his anxious grip

“Oh my god”, Tony gasped, dropping Stephen’s hand suddenly like it was a red hot coal, and then reaching out apologetically, tears springing to his eyes. “Babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant to.”

“It’s okay, it’s fine” Stephen assured softly even as he winced, cradling the hand quickly before passing a spell over it. “Come here.” Tony was numb as he was pulled against the sorcerer’s chest, wrapping his arms around Stephen’s waist reflexively while his chest shook, breath shuddering and trembling like an injured butterfly. Levi squeezed his shoulders comfortingly while wrapping around them both like they always did and the action in of itself was comforting. Tony took steadying, deep breaths as he was held by both cloak and sorcerer, ashamed and angry about how he had handled Steve and Natasha’s surprise visit, even more so that it had taken Stephen stepping in to get rid of them.

“I’m sorry for taking over like that”, Stephen rumbled softly, as if reading his thoughts. “I could feel you panicking, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch while-.”

“It’s okay”, Tony said, voice muffled as he pressed his face against Stephen’s chest in relief, grounding himself with the sorcerer’s musky and comforting chai tea scent, his breathing slowing slightly. “I’m glad you did that.” He squeezed his arms a little tighter around Stephen’s waist, just to make sure he wasn’t dust, before lifting his head to look up into blue-green eyes watching him with concern. “I wish you didn’t have to, ‘cause hell knows I can usually defend myself-.”

“I know”, Stephen interrupted softly, looking guilty. “That’s why I apologized. I didn’t want to-.”

“But I’m glad you did”, Tony repeated with conviction, the anxiety ebbing out of his body as he pressed himself against Stephen’s half of the life force, Levi’s heavy fabric around his shoulders calming him further. “It was kind of nice to have someone stand up for me, I guess. You’re pretty good at the whole scary wizard boyfriend bit.”

“Yeah?”, Stephen asked with a chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked down at Tony, one trembling hand cradling the back of his head, and Tony could feel himself melting little by little. 

“Yeah”, Tony agreed with a nod, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth involuntarily. He could feel the protectiveness rolling through Stephen in waves as he pressed against him, deciding that he definitely didn’t mind being defended by the sorcerer. “It was pretty good, the whole casual cryptid magic thing and telling them to fuck off. It was kind of hot, actually”, he admitted in a low voice as he glanced at the sorcerer’s lips.

“Oh, you liked that, did you?”, Stephen grinned with amusement, obviously relieved that Tony had moved past his panic enough to joke around. “Well, there’s certainly more where that came from if that’s what you’re in to”, he teased, earning a playful poke in the side from a cybernetic finger. 

“Shut up and kiss me, magic man”, Tony purred, relaxing even further as Stephen leaned down a little to brush their lips together softly, a bottomless well of comfort for Tony’s anxious patchwork heart. A lot had changed in the past month, with Tony telling Stephen about the armour he was building for him, their first time, their first ‘I love you’, but it was good change, reaffirming change that made Tony wonder how he could possibly deserve all the good that his life had turned out to be.

“I love you, Steph”, Tony muttered against the sorcerer’s lips, because he was grateful and just saying those words made him feel something other than the gaping pit of anxiety in his chest threatening to swallow him whole. The adoring, beautiful smile he got in return was more than worth it.

“I love you too, darling.”

*****

It wasn’t surprising when Tony had nightmares about his Snap that night.

The entire month of April had been particularly hard, leading up to the one year anniversary of the Battle for Earth and Tony’s Snap, most nights plagued by nightmares, anxiety attacks, and sleepless early mornings which made Tony glad that he was technically retired. While Tony’s mind was plagued with memories of Thanos and the phantom aches of his Snap, Stephen and Peter were both left wrestling with the idea that they hadn’t even been alive this time last year, memories of their own dusting still vivid and painful.

These were all topics that they tried not to focus on daily, of course, devoting their energy to talking about it when necessary, but preferring to make healing the focal point of any discussions they had, usually kept between the three of them. Harley and Morgan were vaguely privy to their past experiences to a certain extent, but Tony especially made sure that their exposure to such conversations and trauma-induced breakdowns were as limited as possible. Stephen and Tony also focused strongly on making the cabin a safe space, a place where they and Peter could try to heal, a place to feel at ease despite the painful memories their minds were still dredging up a year later. 

Many of Tony’s recent sessions with his therapist, Joan, had been focused on Peter, discussions on how Tony could help his pseudo son through episodes of trauma which had the same root source as his own. Joan’s first recommendation had been for Peter to continue work with his own therapist, something May had gotten on the second there had been some semblance of normality back in the first few months after Tony’s Snap. May had found a kind older woman who was a specialized trauma counsellor, the only downfall being that her name meant Peter had to differentiate between her and his suit AI by calling them ‘therapist Karen’ and ‘AI Karen’ respectively. Therapist Karen and Peter had been working on processing his trauma for the past nine months, along with techniques to distill and lessen the severity of his panic attacks when they came, though Tony often ended up being the only successful remedy for some of the worst nightmares. May, Happy, and Tony had also had many long conversations, first without and then involving Peter, as to whether or not he should go on medication to help his anxiety and nightmares. At first, May didn’t like the idea of him being on meds at such a young age, especially when he had to take such large quantities in order for the medication to even affect his enhanced system. But she had been pushed over the edge when Peter was kept awake for four days straight once as a result of his nightmares.

With Peter on his way to being a somewhat fully-functioning young adult, Tony was able to divert his nurturing tendencies elsewhere as he focused on the other person in his life who had experienced the same Titan-induced travesties first hand. Stephen had been hard set against the idea of a professional therapist ever since Tony had brought up the topic. His criticism of the ‘soft sciences’ as he claimed them to be were fairly seething in their severity, but Tony could be just as, if not more, stubborn than the sorcerer and finally convinced him after months of trying. They had come to an agreement of sorts after Tony bargained a deal which would benefit them both, but only once he discovered that Stephen was just as concerned about his partner’s health, though in a completely different regard.

“Just try it once. It will help with your anxiety so much, I promise.

“I’m not doing yoga with you, Stephanie. I don’t care what kind of health benefits you say it has, I’m nowhere near as flexible as you think I am. Besides, yoga’s for health nuts, stay-at-home moms, and anyone who was bored enough to join your cult.” This last comment had prompted a fairly murderous glance and a thoughtful silence from the sorcerer.

“I’ll get therapy if you do yoga”, Stephen said suddenly, but deathly serious.

“Merlin, the only way you’re getting me to do yoga is if you wear those tight pants while we do it.”

“Deal”, Stephen said, without hesitation. 

“I feel like this is a very lop-sided deal.”

“Oh, you have the better end of it, I assure you”, Stephen said dryly with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I know”, Tony grinned triumphantly, because maybe this had been his plan all along. 

So Stephen got a therapist too, a trusted colleague of Joan’s who she had recommended to the sorcerer after knowing Tony for a year, and hearing plenty about Stephen in turn. He was an older gentleman who was prone to wearing cardigans and over-sized shades in his own somewhat dark office, an old cliche of a shrink who Stephen would have found unbearable if not for his being the most eccentric person the sorcerer had ever met. They hit it off immediately, starting with some of the easier, more obvious things that Stephen needed to work through before divulging into some of the heavier topics, thought Stephen was concerned how the seventy(?)-year-old would react to the knowledge of alternate timelines. But something told him it wouldn’t be so difficult a topic for the old man to wrap his head around as it was for most people, as he seemed to have a very imaginative way about him.

They had all been making good progress with their respective therapists, especially in the past few months, but there was only so much therapy and medication could do, and the day of Steve’s visit to the cabin was one of the bad nights for everybody

It had been just over a month since Stephen had killed an alien during a battle in a different dimension, resulting in his massive panic attack in the bathtub and weeks worth of subsequent nightmares after the fact. He woke himself up sometime around one a.m. on Saturday night, panting with fear from the memory of being drenched in gallons of hot blood, his entire body shaking as he sat up in bed and tried to catch his breath. Stephen’s eyes found Tony’s solid outline in the dim glow the nightlight from the hall provided, focusing on his presence and the steady sound of his breathing in an effort to ground himself back to reality. It took several breathing techniques and about half an hour of focusing on the calming energy of Tony’s life force seeping into his chest before he could even consider sleeping again. His heart rate almost back to normal, Stephen laid back down and pulled the covers up over his shoulders, pressing himself against the warmth of Tony’s back and wrapping an arm around his midsection. His own breathing still a little shaky, Stephen made himself focus on Tony’s stomach rising and falling under his hand with each breath, the soothing rhythm along with the closeness of the engineer’s half of the life force soon lulling him back into an uneasy sleep. 

Stephen was jolted out of his own restless sleep again about two hours later as Tony yelled something unintelligible in his sleep, floundering out of the sorcerer’s loose grip with horrific fear plastered on his face. With a heavy heart, Stephen heard the now familiar click of Tony’s repulsor mechanism locking in his arm. Chest heaving as he pressed himself back against the head board, the glazed over look left Tony’s eyes as he recognized Stephen and the fact that they were both safe in their bedroom. Covering Tony’s gasping string of muttered apologizes with soothing words, Stephen pulled him into his arms somewhat shakily, but Tony was inconsolable. The second he felt Stephen’s familiar touch, he broke down sobbing, blubbering brokenly about the nightmare he had just had, how he had to keep watching Stephen and Peter getting killed by Thanos in millions of different ways, forced to watch while there was nothing he could do about it. Just like the Dusting on Titan. He was shaking so much that Stephen was concerned about his heart, his own heart breaking as Tony told him how the dream had ended with Tony Snapping, except it hadn’t worked this time.

Sensing that neither of them were going to get anymore sleep that night, Stephen recruited Levi in helping him drag Tony down the stairs, knowing from experience that cuddling on the sofa, along with inordinate amounts of tea and late night tv were the only thing that could help at this point. Stephen had also found that being on a different floor of the house than anyone trying to actually sleep was helpful if Tony were to drift off again, as he was likely to relapse back into the same or similar dreams. Morgan and Harley were both sound sleepers, but hearing their dad yelling in fear from his nightmares was bound to rouse them out of even the deepest sleep. As had been the case many times in the past few months, Peter was already huddled on the sofa when Stephen and Tony stumbled into the living room together, the flicker of the tv illuminating his haunted features in blue light. It had become a devastatingly common occurrence for them to wake each other with screams and sobbing at night after horrifying nightmares, but Stephen’s heart broke every time he saw Peter sitting on the sofa like that, looking small and broken. Especially in the past month, the trio had resorted to huddling on the sofa, or in Tony and Stephen’s bed in a desperate attempt to comfort one another from the terror their own mind provided. 

Stephen helped Tony haul his shaking, hyperventilating body onto the sofa so he and Peter could hold each other and be reminded of each other’s safety and existence, cocooned by Levi all the while. Stephen would usually go to the kitchen to prepare tea for the three of them, but tonight was one of the especially bad nights where he couldn’t convince himself to pry Tony’s terrified grip from around his wrist, sinking on to the sofa beside him while Peter remained pressed against his dad’s other side. 

Stephen wrapped an arm around Tony’s shaking shoulders, muttering comforting everythings with his cheek pressed against the engineer’s temple, holding his free hand out for Peter to take, squeezing it gently while they sandwiched Tony between them. Tony was still drawing unsteady, rasping breaths, eyes wide with dwindling panic while clinging to Stephen and letting Peter cling to him. Blankets were pulled from off the back of the sofa and spread over them (though nothing could replace the comforting weight of Levi hugging around all their shoulders), creating a nest of warmth and comfort as they sunk back in the plush sofa cushions, their legs all tangled together on the large leather ottoman. 

Sometimes they would talk together in hushed tones, the tv on mute with only its dim flickerings to show that it was on at all, but tonight they were silent. In a whisper, Stephen asked Peter if he wanted to talk about his nightmare, but the teen just shook his head and hid his face against his dad’s shoulder, pulling a wool blanket up around them more securely. Stephen distracted himself from the fragments of his own nightmares by focusing instead on pressing tender, reality-grounding kisses to Tony’s cheek and forehead. Tony’s distant, mismatched eyes glittered with tears as he leaned into Stephen’s shoulder gratefully while hugging him, and the sorcerer could feel his partner’s heart rate steadying through their life force link. Hugging an arm around him securely, Stephen felt Tony slowly begin to relax against him, his weight steady and warm as the blue light of the tv reminded them that there were things in the world other than the horrors of their own minds. It was to this ghostly flickering light that the three of them eventually drifted into fitful sleep sometime around five a.m.

*****

The next night, Stephen found himself suddenly jolted wide awake from sleep again, though his mind was devoid from the blood-soaked nightmares he had come to dread lately. Something else must have woken him up this time. Sparing a glance at his watch (3:24 a.m.), Stephen could feel Tony’s presence beside him in the dark of their room, could hear him snoring softly, so that obviously wasn’t what had snapped him awake from his peaceful sleep. Calling Levi to him with a silent gesture, Stephen slid out of bed carefully and tiptoed around Taj who was also snoring soundly, padding barefoot into the hall with the cloak swishing behind him. 

A quick look into Morgan’s room found her sleeping soundly while hugging her Spider-Man plush and Stephen shut her door quietly before walking down the hall to Peter’s room. The sorcerer’s heart dipped into his stomach upon finding the teen’s bed empty, but he quickly reassured himself by reasoning that Peter was likely on the sofa again like last night. He avoided the squeaky step (fourth down from the top), and traipsed down the stairs quietly in the still, dark silence that only came in the dead of night. Too dark, too silent. Peering into the living room revealed that the tv was off and the room devoid of life, sending panic racing through Stephen’s chest as he stared at the empty sofa incredulously.

Racking his mental calendar for accuracy, Stephen confirmed to himself in his half-asleep state that Peter should in fact be there. It was a Sunday night, but the trip Happy and May had been planning fell on the week of the anniversary of Tony’s Snap, so of course Peter was invited to spend the week at the cabin while his first set of parents were away. Stephen had been more than happy to open a gateway into Queens for Peter morning and afternoon so that he could commute to school. Standing with a racing heart in the dark living room, Stephen would have done anything to have Peter beside him again, sharing their new routine of hushed conversation in the morning while he prepared a homemade breakfast sandwich for the teen and then shooed him out the front door and through a gateway. 

Stephen was tugged out of his spiralling panic as Levi nudged him towards the front door, the cloak insistently pulling him across the hardwood floor.

“Okay, okay”, Stephen muttered indignantly at the relic’s impatience, pushing back at the cloak half-heartedly before pulling the screen door open and stepping on to the porch. The cool night air made him shiver, skin prickling as he was in nothing but a pair of boxers and Tony’s largest AC/DC shirt, but Levi kept tugging at him, pulling him down the porch steps completely.

“What is with you?”, Stephen asked the cloak as they pulled him on to the front lawn, the grass cold and dewy beneath his bare feet. “Where’s Peter?” Levi responded by spinning him around so Stephen was facing the cabin. Oh. He craned his neck and spotted a distinctly teenager-shaped lump on the lower peak of the roof, outlined dimly in the light glow of moonlight the cloudy night offered. Stephen’s anxiety was replaced with concern as Levi carried him up to the roof of the front porch, the shingles surprisingly cold beneath his bare feet as the sorcerer padded carefully across the roof. 

“Peter?”, Stephen said gently, approaching the unresponsive teen carefully, noticing the way he was shivering slightly despite the large hoodie he was wearing.

“Hey, Doc”, Peter croaked without turning around, his ragged voice betraying the tears that Stephen couldn’t see on his face in the dark. 

“What are you doing up here, spiderling?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmare?”, Stephen asked, even though he knew. He could see it in the tired lines of the boy’s shoulders, the way he was hugging his own knees like he was trying to anchor himself to something solid. Stephen knew the feeling, the paranoid feeling that you were going to drift away at any second, nothing more than a smattering of dust on the wind.

“Yeah”, Peter replied hoarsely, sounding so much older than eighteen, his voice weathered and knowing in a way that made Stephen’s heart ache. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?”, Stephen asked, voice unbearably gentle as he sat carefully on the shingles besides him, wrapping a side of Levi around the teen and Peter settled against the sorcerer’s side automatically, still hunched around his knees like a shattered fragment of the bubbly, kind soul Stephen was used to seeing. Peter’s only response was a silent nod, his face almost impassive with trauma-soaked grief as he stared out across the lake, moonlight glinting on the calm obsidian surface.

“I dreamt that you and Dad died during the battle, and May and Happy and Ned were gone in the Snap, and I didn’t have anyone left”, Peter choked out wetly all at once, his lower lip wobbling with unshed tears despite the wet tracks that had already marked their way down his face. Heartfracturing with the terrible weight of Peter’s words, Stephen squeezed his shoulders gently as the teen continued. “I keep- I can’t stop dreaming about that. Just…losing everybody. But it’s usually you and Dad. Mostly Dad, though”, Peter admitted, sounding unbearably young now as he crumbled, voice wavering with the sobs bubbling in his chest. “I’m just…so tired.” Stephen let the silence settle for a moment before he spoke. 

“I know it’s hard”, Stephen rasped softly. “And I know that sounds like a cliche response, but I do know what you’re going through.” Stephen paused, holding Peter’s shaking body a little tighter against his side as he kept his eyes trained on the cloudy night sky above them. “Losing your dad is the one nightmare I can never get out of my head…maybe because it almost happened. But you just have to keep reminding yourself that he’s okay, and hopefully within time we’ll be able to move past it, though I know that’s easier said than done.” Peter nodded numbly, taking the logical words presented to him and stirring them around inside his mind, tilting his head to look at the sorcerer and Stephen could see new tears trickling down his cheeks.

“You saw that in all those alternate futures? Losing him?” Stephen exhaled steadily, focusing hard on keeping himself from being swamped by those memories as Peter mentioned them. It was a constant struggle to not let himself be buried by the millions of possibilities he had seen where Tony was killed in the Titan battle.

“Yeah” Stephen said quietly, focusing on the charcoal clouds above them, his jaw clenched with concentration as he followed their sooty outline with his eyes. Anything to distract himself.

“That’s gotta be hard”, Peter murmured wetly, leaning his head against the sorcerer’s shoulder and Stephen was pulled out of his mind fully, caressing soft brown curls with shaking fingers as he let his cheek rest on top of Peter’s head. His heart ached for this boy (he was still only a boy, really) who had seen and felt too much pain, yet still had such a capacity for empathy and caring. And it was in that way, along with many others, that he always reminded Stephen of Tony. He was about to say something comforting to that effect, when Peter suddenly spoke again, his voice wavering in the silence.

“I know I’ve thanked you before…for what you did, but…I don’t know if you realize how much I really owe you.” HIs words hung heavily in the empty night air and Stephen choked at the implication, wanting to lunge away from those words like poison. What he had done to save Tony was entirely selfish, something he’d been telling himself from the very beginning. He’d been a lovesick fool, not a hero.

“No, no. You don’t owe me anything”, Stephen muttered dismissively. “Neither does he.”

“Doc, I wouldn’t have been able to handle actually losing him after just getting un-dusted”, Peter insisted, patience dwindling despite the sob that almost took over his words. “He’s…he’s everything to me and you’re the reason he’s still around…after the one time he couldn’t save himself.” Stephen couldn’t respond to this, so Peter continued, voice warbled and choked with the wetness trapped in his throat. “And…you’re deserve to hear that, to be thanked…because I didn’t have to actually lose him thanks to you. I want you to know…’cause you’re important to me too now. And not just ‘cause of what you did.”

“Oh, so you like me too now, hmm? Still not as important as Dad, though, am I?”, Stephen teased lightly, still fighting the lump in his throat, while also desperate to escape the recognition of saving Tony with his life force. He could appreciate the vulnerability it took for Peter to say what he just had, his heart warming at the confession. They exchanged plenty of nonverbal affection, but it was nice to hear it out loud, to be reassured that it wasn’t just all in Stephen’s head, yet another haunting ghost of one of fourteen million realities lost to time. 

“Mmm, same amount of important, just different. Not Dad, but…maybe Doctor Dad?”, Peter tried to say lightly, as though it could be turned into a joke if Stephen didn’t react well, and his voice betrayed the question being asked about the proposed title, sounding nervous as if he were overstepping some sort of invisible boundary. Stephen could have sobbed with deep, soul-binding joy, pressing a kiss to those soft, unruly curls in response and he felt the teen relax in his embrace a little.

“I’m good with that”, Stephen whispered against his boy’s hair, his tearful chuckle betraying exactly how okay he was with the new title. The myriad of emotions bombarding his heart left him breathless, especially as Peter shifted a little to wrap an arm around the sorcerer’s chest in a gentle hug. He’d never pictured having kids, but after viewing the fourteen million possibilities, he couldn’t imagine _not_ having Peter. He was barely encroaching upon good speaking terms with Harley, and to Morgan he was still and might always be ‘Doc’, but he never could quite give up the ghosts of hearing Peter call him ‘Dad’ in countless lost lifetimes. 

“Cool”, Peter muttered with a wet giggle, gratefully wrapping strong arms around the man who’d accepted him into his heart more readily than anyone had since Ben or Tony. It was a little bittersweet to know about the fourteen million alternate realities, both comforting in knowing that the universe knew they were always meant to have this relationship, and painful in acknowledging the time they had lost in this reality. But any time they had with each other from this point on was enough for Peter.

“Can I do something to help with the nightmares?”, Stephen asked suddenly, and Peter pulled back a bit to look up at him, his tearful eyes ignited with a flicker of hope.

“Really?”, Peter croaked. “Like you have magic for that kinda stuff or something?”

“Yes. I never offered before because…well, most people are incredibly wary of magic. Your aunt and dad being two of them”, Stephen sighed. He had offered the same spell to Tony many times, but he had declined almost every time, as if there were some part of the engineer’s mind that believed he deserved to relive his greatest fears night after night. “But your nightmares have never been as bad as they are this week”, Stephen pointed out sympathetically, head tilting a little at the almost sheepish grimace pulling the teen’s face into a frown. 

“I hate bothering you guys with it. It’s like Dad’s always worrying about me now, wondering if I’m sleeping okay or if I need him.”

“You’re never a bother”, Stephen assured quickly. “And your dad’s going to worry about you for the rest of your life, so get used to it.” His heart lightened again at the quirked smile his comment was able to pull onto Peter’s face. “But let me explain because I think this might really help you. There’s this spell, your dad has let me use it on him, actually. I attach it to your…head per se, and it works to prevent fight-or-flight responses in your amygdala during REM sleep, lowering the activity in that region of your brain.” Stephen was delighted to see Peter nod in understanding, brown eyes still red-rimmed but alight with curiosity. 

“That’s pretty neat, actually”, Peter said, a lop-sided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. “How long does it last?”

“About three days, but I can reapply it if your nightmares persist.”

“Thanks”, Peter said quietly, still using his sleeve to wipe his tear-moistened face. “I don’t really like being on those meds, but I guess they’re better than nothing.” Stephen’s heart crumbled at the desolate hopelessness in the teen’s voice, gesturing for him to turn and face him. 

“Well, we’ll give this a try”, Stephen suggested gently. “I’m just going to put my hands on either side of your head and I’ll need to keep eye contact with you for about ten seconds to establish the necessary sort of…mental link, you could call it, to complete the spell.” Peter nodded calmly, so Stephen continued. “You’ll feel a bit of a cold sensation in your temples, but it won’t hurt.”

“Sorcerer’s honour?”, Peter asked with an impish grin.

“Sorcerer’s honour”, Stephen confirmed with a chuckle, eyes softening as he turned to face him completely, knees brushing together as they both sat cross-legged on the flat porch roof. Levi left Stephen’s shoulders to settle onto the teen’s instead, but the sorcerer barely felt the cold as he focused on his boy. 

“Ready?” At Peter’s nod, Stephen lifted his shaking hands to frame the teen’s face gently, cupping his jaw on both sides with a thumb on each cheek. Peter met his eyes unprompted, big, brown eyes full of trust and hope for this unusual remedy to the nightmares that had been terrorizing his mind. Stephen felt something fall into place in his chest as he focused and started the spell, watching Peter’s brow lower marginally at the cool feeling the sorcerer had forewarned him of. The spell was complete within a matter of minutes, and Peter met his eyes again as Stephen’s hands left his cheeks and dropped onto his shoulders softly.

“How’s that feel?”, he asked, but he could already tell by the look on Peter’s face.

“I-I can’t even remember the last dream I had”, Peter said, relieved joy spilling onto his face as happy tears welled in his eyes. “Is that supposed to happen?”

“Happy side affect, apparently”, Stephen rumbled softly, remembering Tony having a similar reaction when he had first tried this spell on him during one of their many cafe lunch dates in theVillage. “Hopefully now you can make up for some of the sleep you’ve been losing”, he added gently, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the teen’s forehead. 

“Thank you”, Peter said with a sweet, tired smile, sidling beside the sorcerer again so he could pull him into a hug while Levi blocked out the cool chill of the night air. Stephen wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders in turn, holding him to his chest with a rush of overwhelming contentment and near peacefulness as they sat together in the cool still of the night. He tilted his head up, catching sight of some of the stars glinting through the shadowy moonlit clouds, silently thanking whatever forces of the universe for deciding that he was allowed to have this boy in this reality, in this life. 

It was after several minutes that Stephen noticed Peter’s grip had slackened, looking down to realize that the teen had fallen asleep huddled against his chest, the sorcerer’s old, fractured heart panging in both sympathy and relief. Calling Levi to his shoulders, Stephen scooped the gangly teen up in his arms as well as he could manage with the use of magic, hands still a little shaky as he cradled Peter to his chest as if he were a toddler. The calming effect of the spell must have knocked him out, because Peter didn’t stir once as Levi carried them gently down from the roof, the cloak holding the squeaky front door open while Stephen crept inside as quietly as possible.

Sure, he could have used a simple levitation spell to carry Peter, but every paternal instinct in Stephen’s body was insisting that he keep the boy in his arms, pressed against his heart where he belonged. Narrowly avoiding the squeaky stair, Stephen carried Peter up the stairs back to his room, setting him down on his bed gently while Levi wrapped back around the boy protectively the second he was settled on the mattress. Praising the cloak in a whisper, Stephen pulled the comforter back up as well, tucking it around Peter’s shoulders the way he liked, as the teen often slept better with a heavy blanket wedged around him, as if it were grounding him. Heart thrumming with protective love, Stephen stooped to brush the curls away from Peter’s forehead with gentle shaking fingers and pressed another kiss there. Straightening back up, he told Levi to come get him if the boy woke up again, before quietly making his way back to his own bed and the warmth of Tony’s presence. 

*****

“So…why does Tony have an alpaca again?”

“I’ve never really asked. Gerald’s just kind of part of the family”, Peter said, reaching out to offer said alpaca another slide of apple, which he took gently in comparison to the way he tended to snatch treats out of Tony’s hand.

“That’s pretty cool”, Ned admitted, reaching up to pet Gerald’s wooly neck again

“You guys kind of have a mini farm going on here”, MJ observed shrewdly, sitting in the grass while Taj enjoyed the ample supply of belly rubs she was willing to provide.

“Kind of”, Peter agreed, frantically searching for something vaguely intelligent to say. “Dad wants to get ducks for eggs and stuff too, but the Doc’s been resisting that one pretty strongly. He’s convinced they’ll just turn into pets like the chickens did, and he’s probably right.”

“You think this is a farm?”, Shuri asked with that usual smug, amused way she had about her, leaning back against the corner of the garden shed. “Come to Wakanda sometime and I’ll show you a real farm. Ever seen a rhinoceros up close?”

“At a zoo”, Ned supplied with a wary look, prompting a loud laugh from the Wakandan princess. MJ watched them with an amused twinkle in her eye, smiling as Taj rolled onto his back so she could better access his furry underbelly and Peter’s heart skipped a beat at seeing the genuine grin on her face. Rare and beautiful. Making himself blush with the mere thought, Peter turned back around to hide his face against Gerald’s snowy fleece again. 

It was a lazy, warm Thursday evening, nearing the end of Peter’s first week spent at the cabin while May and Happy were away on their first vacation together. Peter would have been fine staying at the apartment in Queens on his own, but with the upcoming anniversary of Tony’s Snap, the offer to stay at the cabin was a welcome one, especially with Peter’s frequently occurring nightmares as a result. May had felt unbearably guilty about this once she realized this trip coincided with the unfortunate date, even as she and Happy were walking out the front door to head to the airport. Peter had assured her he would be fine as long as he had Tony to help him through the worst of his nightmares, feeling almost guilty for the countless times that his dad had held him and soothed him back to reality. Nevertheless, Happy had made him promise to call them if he needed them to come home, and Peter realized in that moment how much his relationship with the former bodyguard had changed. He had pulled the man into a crushing hug, which Happy reciprocated after a moment of surprise before Peter shooed him out the door after May. His friends, as usual, had been another of his greatest comforts in keeping his mind off the approaching anniversary, and this was one of the few times that Peter had invited them all over to the cabin at Tony’s approval and insistence. 

After Peter and Shuri had struck up a rather likely friendship with a shared interest in biotech during Tony’s months in the Wakandan hospital, they had kept in contact even once Tony had been allowed to go home and Peter had no reason to visit Africa anymore. But the Doc had offered to open gateways to enable visits between them over the course of the past year, and the two teenagers had taken him up on the offer as often as possible. Ned of course had been over countless times for an afternoon of playing on the Xbox in the basement, or for the occasional family dinner where Tony had given him a hard time and been exceedingly embarrassing in general. MJ had been over less often, though she had given Tony a run for his money in the dry humour department, matching him quip for quip as they gently grilled each other over lunch the first time she was over. But she had become more comfortable with the idea of visiting the cabin as her friendship with Peter grew, something bittersweet about their blossoming relationship as they were finally getting closer to the end of their last year of high school. With final exams fast approaching, they had all been spending as much time together as possible when they weren’t swamped with assignments, their upcoming Europe trip in the second week of July their one last hurrah as a trio before they went their separate ways into the world of post secondary education.

Peter was pulled out of his thoughts and the group all turned at once, distracted from their joking conversation as the familiar vibrant crackling energy of a gateway forming suddenly appeared on the front lawn. Stephen strode through with a scowl on his face until he saw the four teens and corrected his expression, walking up to them with Levi swishing around him rather majestically.

“Peter”, Stephen greeted warmly with a grin, sparing Peter from the embarrassment of a forehead kiss or a loud ‘Underoos!’, unlike Tony would, before looking to the rest of the group with a nod. “Hello, you three. Anyone staying for dinner? I need to know now so I can get the baked potatoes in the oven.” After he was met with a chorus of polite denial and explanations of alternative plans, the sorcerer disappeared into the cabin as quickly as he had appeared, though he spared Peter a quick wink before traipsing up the porch steps. 

“Is it weird living with him sometimes? After saving the world together and everything?”, MJ asked, turning to Peter after the screen door had slammed shut behind the sorcerer, trying to hide her curiosity with that discerning, squinted look she sometimes had. Peter thought it was adorable that she pretended not to care about things despite being so intrigued. He had been amused to notice that the Doc and MJ were both fascinated and perplexed by each other, specifically in that their energy around each other was simultaneously extremely formal but also teasing, as they tended to call each other by their full first name only, but in a knowing, friendly way.

“Not really. It’s a little _strange_, though”, Peter said, eliciting loud groans from Ned and Shuri while MJ graced him with a flicker of a quirked smile. 

“He’s kinda grumpy and mysterious”, Ned observed. “But he makes a mean apple cobbler, so wizard dad has my vote, Peter.” 

Peter offered a smile along with muttered agreement despite the way his heart skipped a beat at Ned’s nickname for the sorcerer. Despite telling his best friend everything since kindergarten, Peter had yet to tell him or anyone else about the recent development in his relationship with his second (or fourth, depending on how you looked at it) parental figure. Not that he was embarrassed to be tacking ‘Dad’ on to Stephen’s professional title…or maybe he was, especially around Harley. His association with the twenty-one-year-old had become decidedly more friendly in the past month or so, but their conversation outside the movie theatre was still lodged into his mind whenever it came to his relationship with the deceivingly kind sorcerer. So, he was reluctant to use the title except for when it just him and Stephen, though he was tempted to use it more and more often when he saw the way ever utterance of ‘Doctor Dad’ made the sorcerer’s very being light up a little every time. 

Pushing such complex musings out of his head, Peter enjoyed the slowly fading sunlight and easy conversation with his three closest friends until Stephen came out in the golden light of the near dusk, prompting them to say their goodbyes so he could gateway Peter’s guests home, ensuring they all knew the offer of dinner was still open if they had changed their minds. Shuri was the first to go with the promise of helping Peter with suit updates next time he came to Wakanda, though they had yet to convince Tony to let them make an entirely vibranium Spider Man suit. Ned stepped through the gateway opened for him after one of their handshakes, promising to FaceTime Peter about studying for their calculus exam later. 

Peter was surprised but delighted when MJ pulled him into a quick hug before she followed Ned through the same gateway to Queens, telling Stephen she missed the character-building experience of taking the bus when he gave her front door service via gateway. Peter tried unsuccessfully to hide how flustered he was as MJ pulled back from their hug, earning one of her sly, barely-there smirks as she gave Stephen a peace sign and stepped through the gateway before it snapped shut. Peter supposed the hug wasn’t totally out of the blue as he had vented to her a little about his traumatic nightmares lately, leaving out the embarrassing details, of course. But she had been a surprisingly sympathetic ear when Peter was scared of dragging Ned down with depressing retellings of his latest nightmare. 

Peter felt his cheeks flushing the second MJ was out of sight, turning to catch the teasing, knowing grin Stephen was doing a poor job of hiding.

“Something amusing there, Doctor Dad?”, Peter grinned wryly, and maybe he used the title just to see the way the sorcerer’s eyes softened despite the mischievous twinkle within them.

“No, nothing at all, just admiring the sunset”, Stephen assured smoothly, quirking a brow slightly as he adjusted his sling ring. “I’m going to go pick your dad up from Rhodey’s. Do you mind setting the table?”

“Sure thing”, Peter nodded, accepting a loving swat from Levi before the sorcerer flicked another gateway open to Rhodey’s front door and stepped through. Peter called Taj and ruffled the dog’s ears gently as they padded up the porch steps side-by-side and into the kitchen. He set cutlery out on the table and poured three glasses of water from the tap, humming off-key to himself softly while Taj watched carefully in case there was the chance of food suddenly appearing. Peter heard his dad before he saw him, smiling with affectionate exasperation as Tony came through the front door with an exuberant ‘Underoos!’, despite Peter having been at the cabin all week, trailed by a bemused sorcerer. Tony had spent the afternoon at Rhodey’s for some much-needed bro time, so he had plenty to fill them in on while they all helped to get dinner on the table.

Dinner was unusually quiet, but in a comfortable way as they settled into baked potatoes, maple carrots, and a quinoa salad that Stephen was trying to convince them didn’t taste like sand. The meal was slightly less rambunctious than usual in that Morgan was staying in Queens with her mom as she had a doctor appointment tomorrow morning, and Harley had insisted on staying at MIT for a house party he had been looking forward to for weeks. Despite his love for Morgan (and tolerance of Harley) Peter certainly didn’t mind having his dads to himself for one night, lost in the sound of Tony’s laugh while they gently teased the sorcerer about his ambitious attempts at trying to get them to eat healthier, his put-out eye rolls just making Tony laugh harder. Amongst all the turmoil of their lives still catching up to them, dragging them down, it was nice to have a simple family dinner with just the three of them, like Peter imagined might have been very normal in some of those fourteen million possibilities which he had been mulling over lately more than usual. He wanted to ask more about the alternate realities, but the haunted look that took over Stephen’s eyes whenever they were brought up wasn’t worth fulfilling his curiosity. 

After-dinner cleanup ended in a water and bubble fight at the kitchen sink which Peter may or may not have started, giggling so hard his face hurt as Tony trapped him in a headlock and soaked his hair with a handful of soap suds. Then the Doc got involved in an attempt to save Peter and the bubble fight turned into a tickle fight, forcing Stephen to resort to neck kisses when his hands couldn’t tickle as well as he needed to defend himself. It worked, Tony dissolving into a fit of giggles as he tried to gently shove the sorcerer away, only saving himself by bringing out the puppy eyes and pleads for Stephen to help him make a batch of cookies for dessert. The sorcerer couldn’t resist, promising to help with the cookie recipe that Tony had been trying and failing to succeed at making. Though usually eager to stick around for some family baking, Peter had a feeling that this particular baking session would definitely end up being mostly sugary kisses and floury handprints on jeans, so he made his leave to his room this time, just to be safe. Of course he didn’t mind seeing the two men who had been through so much be happy and playful, but he’d rather give them their privacy, though Tony especially rarely made any effort to hide his affections for the sorcerer. 

An hour or so later, after a fruitless attempt at studying for his calculus exam with Ned over FaceTime, Peter was laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling while deep in thought. MJ’s departing hug and knowing smirk was running through his mind on repeat and he couldn’t get that seven second moment out of his head. It wasn’t the first display of physical affection that she’d shown towards him, but it was certainly the biggest. A standoffish person by nature, MJ had never been prone to the type of constant physical contact that years of knowing Ned had leant to his friendship with Peter, but that had been changing steadily in the past few months. Despite this, Peter had spent the better part of the past twenty minutes trying to convince himself that the hug had just been a display of pity, as MJ knew how hard this month was for him, with the memories of Tony’s Snap and his own un-dusting resurfacing in his mind as the anniversary drew near.

Peter was pulled out of his thoughtful daydreaming as he heard Tony yelling downstairs. He wasn’t alarmed at first, as Tony was always extremely vocal and for him to be expressing his dramatic distaste for something was a normal daily occurrence. Peter had almost tuned him out to divulge back into his own thoughts, but then he heard the sorcerer’s rumbling baritone mix in with Tony’s shouting, much louder than he had ever heard Stephen raise his voice, and this gave Peter pause. The Doc never yelled. He never raised his voice, at least not that Peter had ever heard other than the Titan battle, but that had been yelling-to-be-heard, not yelling as you would in an argument. Around Peter, Tony, and Morgan, the sorcerer was always calm, measured, and gentle, the epitome of caring patience, making it difficult for Peter imagine him angry. Though he had no doubt that the Sorcerer Supreme was formidable when tested, as it was something he had the misfortune of seeing first hand. 

Creeping out of his room and to the top of the stairs, Peter was able to make out what Tony was saying, and what he heard split his heart in two.

*****

Tony hadn’t meant to start the argument.

They’d never really argued before. Sure, there was the misunderstanding which led to their three week separation back in November, based on Stephen not telling Tony about why he saved his life. But that had been resolved with their second ‘argument’ ever, when Stephen had finally told him about the fourteen million realities and what he had seen of their relationship within them, giving Tony peace of mind in regard to the morality of their entire relationship. Any other little quarrels they had ever had were joking, teasing, and playful, because their easy banter was just the way they were with each other when it was just them and they were at ease to be themselves. 

Tony had been measuring out flour for the cookies they were making, when his mind started wandering and speeding along at a hundred miles an hour as it often did, dragging him along with it whether he wanted to be dragged along or not. His Snap had been on his mind more than usual during the past month, and Steve’s visit hadn’t helped in the least, so it wasn’t much of a leap when he started musing aloud about if there could have been another way to save everyone other than him snapping the gauntlet.

He watched as Stephen visibly tensed up, spilling some of the chocolate chips he was measuring for the last batch of cookies, before setting the bag down and meeting Tony’s eyes with his, shattered in their sea glass clarity and pain.

“I assure you…”, Stephen started off slowly, his voice like gravel. “That there were enough multifaceted aspects of those millions of realities that this was the only one in which we were able to win.” The sorcerer’s hands were shaking more than usual, possibly with nerves, and Tony watched as he struggled to pick up the few chocolate chips he had dropped. “Like I told you on Titan, there was no other way.”

“I find that hard to believe”, Tony said quickly, aware that he had hit a sore point, and he felt guilty for upsetting Stephen like this, but it was a sore point for him too. It was something he had been turning over in his mind since that day on Titan in 2018, even more so since his Snap, but he had trusted Stephen whole-heartedly back then just as he did now. It was just that he had had more time to sift through all the complexities in his mind, he’d had time for resentment to build. Not resentment towards Stephen, just a feeling of unfairness in general, cursing out the universe like he had a hundred times. Despite his faith in the sorcerer’s words and abilities, the numbers just didn’t make sense to him. 

“Well, believe it”, Stephen replied, that rare hard edge working its way into his voice. He sounded defensive and it made Tony’s stomach turn. He wasn’t trying to attack him, he was just confused and scared and frustrated more than ever as the anniversary of his Snap drew near. “In every other reality, there was always some kind of mistake, or someone messed up their part of the plan. There were so many realities where we were so close, but then lost at the last second.”

“That’s ridiculous”, Tony grumbled. “The only reason you had to keep it a secret is because you told me it was the only way. But if you had told me about this reality, and how it seemed like the only option, I bet I could have found another way.”

“Another way, Tony?”, Stephen sputtered, his pride clearly bruised. “You think if there was another way that I wouldn’t have found it?” He suddenly shoved his shaking hands into the pockets of his cardigan in a desperate attempt to still or hide them, and Tony shook with guilt and frustration and helplessness. “I almost died being stuck in that time loop for the equivalent of 3,000 years. I would have died if you didn’t help pull me out of it.” Stephen paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath, gaze boring into the floor in a moment of desperate intensity before meeting Tony’s eyes again. “I tried, okay? I tried”, he repeated, voice breaking, Tony’s heart breaking with it. “I promise you that my search was as thorough as possible, and if there had been another way I would have found it, but there wasn’t. I would have done anything to keep you from having to Snap that gauntlet…” He looked away, jaw clenched as he tried to keep the glistening tears in his eyes from falling. “But this was the only reality where we won and you lived, Anthony. I promise you that.”

Self-resentment suddenly overwhelmed Tony’s chest, blocking out the genuine sincerity of Stephen’s words and replacing them with a mental downpour of self-deprecating thoughts. He had always been too ready, too willing to die. The only way he was allowed to stay around was if he made up for the wrong he had done in the past, and the only way he could do that was being Iron Man (_‘I shouldn't be alive... unless it was for a reason. I'm not crazy, Pepper. I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it's right._’). Then Peter came around, and Morgan, and he suddenly had another reason to live. A reason to risk it all for the son he had lost. Ten-years-ago-Tony wouldn’t have cared if he lived or died, as long as the universe and everyone else had been saved. But this Tony did care about his life more, if only marginally, because he wanted to live it with his kids (and his…boyfriend? Partner? Soulmate?Whatever Stephen was…), and he was pissed that he couldn’t have done the whole saving-the-universe thing a little differently. Or maybe even if he could have let someone else do it. 

Tony watched Stephen as the sorcerer watched him fidget with this information, all old information, but brought to a new light. He was emotional, he wasn’t thinking straight, the anniversary of his Snap was in three days and he felt like he was being torn limb-from-limb with the anxiety and nightmares and rage of it all. Besides the constant reminders from his mind of what had happened, phantom aches from his lost right arm had been plaguing him day and night. It was a constant, itchy, burning reminder every time his mind told him to reach out with his old arm and it _wasn’t there_. It was uncomfortable and terrifying, and it made him hate his cybernetic arm, and hate everything that had lead to him getting it. It was also what made him say what he did next.

“Seriously, Strange?”, Tony snapped bitterly, immediately regretting his tone as the sorcerer flinched, but his tongue was hot with rage and out of his control. “Out of fourteen _fucking_ million realities, _this _was the only way? Me almost losing half my body and being in so much fucking pain-?!” Cutting himself off, he slammed the ceramic bowl he’d been holding down on the table, hard, harder than he had meant to, and he was surprised when it didn’t crack. His heart cracked instead when he met the jaded, tearful look in Stephen’s eyes.

“Do you have any-?” Stephen’s voice croaked wetly and he stopped himself before starting over. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve blamed myself for your Snap? And you’re still asking me if there was another way? I understand you’ve been in pain, I _understand_ you’re angry, darling, but I did everything in my power to prevent it.” Tony couldn’t describe a single individual emotion swirling around in his chest, choking him and weighing his lungs down with liquid insecurity.

“You blame yourself?”, he asked incredulously. “How the fuck do you-?”

“I have to try so hard to not feel guilty every time I look at you, Tony!”, Stephen erupted, hands held out towards Tony helplessly.

“Because of my Snap?!”, Tony sneered. “Oh, that’s rich, Strange! You might have seen those realities, but you couldn’t have controlled what happened completely. I know I’m bitching about it because it still doesn’t really make sense to me, but you don’t have anything to feel guilty about.”

“Are you kidding me right now?!”, Stephen demanded, brow furrowed even as tears spilled onto his cheeks.

“No!”, Tony snapped back, even though his heart was burning with pity. “It was still my choice! My decision! I-.”

“Stop fighting!”

*****

Peter’s chest popped and bubbled with anger as he stood and faced his dad with tears raining down his face, dripping down his chin onto the MIT hoodie he was wearing. It was one of Tony’s old hoodies, but Peter had slowly claimed it over the past year.

He hadn’t heard how the argument had started, but his heart had dropped promptly into his stomach at hearing the two men exchanging such pained words, and he chewed hard on the rage rising molten up in his chest when he heard what they were fighting about. All of his nightmares about Tony dying, his worst nightmare which had almost come true, came surging to the surface of his mind and he almost vomited with the force of remembering them all at once.

Adding to the pain of those ashy, bloody memories was the fact that this was the first time he’d ever heard them argue so ferociously. He needed them. He needed them both so much, and watching them fight was like being torn in two. Peter had come charging down the stairs when he couldn’t stand it anymore, but the two men hadn’t heard him until he screamed at them to stop fighting and they whirled around with ashamed shock on their faces. He couldn’t breathe and his body was rigid as he stared his dad down, staring into his blind eye because Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to stand the look in Tony’s good eye while he yelled at him. Tony held his hands out placatingly, face softening a little as he took a step towards him.

“Pete-.”

“No!”, Peter retorted with a strangled sob, fists bunched in the sleeves of his hoodie. “You need to stop! Saying it was your choice and your decision?! What about everyone you almost left behind?! Huh?! You did it to save the universe, but it was still so fucking selfish of you to do that!” Peter’s throat hurt, from pain and lack of air, making the mistake of glancing at the hurt and empathy in Tony’s good eye, and he broke. “You almost left everyone behind! You almost left m-.” Peter crumbled as he began to sob, wet and heavy and from the tar-coated pit in his stomach. “I…h-hate you. I hate you…for a-almost leaving m-me.”

He couldn’t see through the underwater seascape of tears he was looking through, couldn’t move through the frozen numbness of his body as the minutes following Tony’s Snap wormed their way through his mind like a sickness. But then warm, strong arms, one metal, were pulling him against an equally warm chest, his tear-sticky cheeks pressed against a t shirt that still had flour clinging to it. Peter sobbed hard and angry, and he had no idea how long for, but he didn’t care. His arms were wrapped around Tony’s ribcage tightly enough that he heard the man gasp a little before Peter loosened his hold slightly. He began to regain control of his own consciousness again when he could hear Tony’s voice vibrating against his ear, the murmured assurances a welcome white noise to his shut-down mind. 

“You’re okay, Pete. I’ve got you”, Tony assured, his good arm wrapped around the back of Peter’s head as the teen pressed his forehead to his chest. 

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you”, Peter choked out in a warbled sob, pressing his face against Tony’s shirt, numbly noticing that he had left a wet spot there. 

“I’m okay too”, Tony said gently, but Peter could hear the waver in his voice as he must have been wondering how much of the argument the teen had heard. “So, you’re mad at me, eh?”

“Yeah, I’m mad at you”, Peter weeped shakily, adjusting his grip around Tony’s waist, pressed against the softness of his belly as he breathed in his warm coffee and chocolate scent. “You almost died.”

“But I didn’t”, Tony pointed out helpfully, still holding him back tightly.

“But you almost did!”, Peter erupted, frustration boiling over in his chest as he pulled back, squirming his way out of Tony’s arms angrily. “If not for Doc…” The anger was quickly replaced by tears again and Peter gasped with the roller coaster his chest was going through. “You almost left me and Morgan, and it’s like you’re not even sorry for it.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry”, Tony said, infuriatingly calm as he met Peter’s eyes levelly, but Peter couldn’t be mad at him anymore when he stood there like that, looking small and old with his blind eye as soft as the rest of him. “Despite what you might have just heard, I don’t regret what I did. ‘Cause if you listen to the wizard…”, he said, gesturing to the porch where Peter noticed Stephen had disappeared to, apparently to give them some space. “That’s the only way it was gonna work.”

“Okay, I get that, but it’s like you don’t even care that you almost died”, Peter insisted sullenly, fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie obsessively until he was annoying even himself. “It’s like you don’t even care about your own life.”

“Trust me, kid”, Tony chuckled bitterly. “I care a hell of a lot more about my own life now than I ever have, ‘cause I’ve got to stick around for you and Morgan, right?” It was then that Peter saw red, nails digging into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists hard to keep from punching something.

“But you almost weren’t here anymore!”, he yelled desperately, a sucking hole opening up in his chest as he wished that he could get his dad to understand. “You did that knowing you could be leaving us without our dad!” Something like remorse passed over Tony’s face for a split second, and Peter thought he finally had him for a second, but the remorse quickly became sympathy as Tony reached a gentle cybernetic hand out to rest comfortingly on Peter’s shoulder. 

“I did it to keep you alive, so you and Morgan would have a world to grow up in even if I didn’t make it. That’s what any good parent would do.” His voice was too calm, too practical, and it made Peter want to scream more.

“I didn’t want you to be a good parent! I just want you! I need you…”, Peter begged, all the wind leaving his sails as he almost doubled over with the emotion that came with those words. 

“I need you too”, Tony said softly, opening his arms up again as he took a step towards him. “Come here.”

“No!”, Peter almost pleaded, shoving at his dad’s chest numbly. “I’m pissed at you! I know I’m not making a lot of sense…but you still don’t get it.”

“I get it, Peter. I get it”, Tony assured, good eye twinkling with shrewd amusement. “I created freaking time travel for you, spiderling. So I get it more than anybody.” Peter was certain his heart stopped.

“You what?”

“This”, Tony explained with a sad smile, walking over to the sink and grabbing the picture they had taken of Peter getting his Stark Internship certificate, the one where they had held the certificate upside down while Peter could barely contain the massive grin spreading over his face. “I saw this when I knew I had a chance to get you back.” Tony’s eyes misted over as he looked down at the photograph, softly glancing a thumb over the frame. “And I couldn’t pass up that chance, spider baby.”

“Was that supposed to make me less pissed at you?”, Peter asked shortly despite the tears welling in his eyes again. “‘Cause it kinda just did the opposite.”

“Listen to me, Pete”, Tony sighed, setting the photograph back in its rightful place on the shelf. “I know I took a stupid risk, and you can be mad at me about that for the rest of my life if you want. But I did what I had to, and I know how lucky I am even if I was just sounding like an ungrateful asshole when Stephen and I were arguing. But now I’m just beyond grateful that I get to have you back.” He smiled softly, all grey and warm and alive, and Peter’s heart melted. “And I get to watch Morgan grow up safe with her brother. And I get that wizard out on the porch who I need to go apologize to”, he muttered, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the front screen door. Peter couldn’t be mad at him anymore, at least not right now. All the energy was sucked out of him as he stepped forward and slumped against Tony’s front, encircling his arms around his neck gently. He pressed his face against Tony’s good shoulder and breathing a deep, calming breath while holding back more tears. He was safe, Tony was safe. This was home. 

“You just need to take better care of yourself”, Peter muttered, voice muffled against his dad’s t shirt. “I love you, you idiot.”

“God, you sound like Rhodey”, Tony chuckled lightly, squeezing his shoulders a bit tighter. “I love you too, Petey.”

They stood there for a while, just holding each other and swaying side to side slightly before Tony pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek and pulled back a bit, suggesting they go check on their lonely wizard. Stephen was standing on the porch, looking out over the lake with his hands shoved in his pockets, head snapping around with wide eyes as Tony and Peter came through the screen door. Peter felt guilt build in his chest at the cautious grin the sorcerer offered as Tony approached him, listening to his dad apologize profusely while explaining why he had been overly emotional. Stephen was undyingly forgiving, as usual, barely letting Tony finish his lamenting apology before stepping forward and pulling the engineer against his chest, pressing kisses to his temple while shaking hands carded through greying hair tenderly. Tony held him back just as tightly while they made promises to try harder at not feeling guilty and to bring up difficult topics before enough time passed for resentment to build up. 

Standing back a bit while watching them, Peter was overcome with protective contentment that warmed his innermost being. May and Happy were great together, there was no doubt, but he hadn’t seen two people so perfect for one another as these two were since Ben had been alive. Ben and May had always been the epitome of a healthy, fulfilling relationship, something Peter hoped he could find one day, but there was something especially comforting about watching Tony and the Doc, knowing that they had each other to love and support, and Peter had both of them. Despite his irrational fears, he knew it would take more than the occasional argument to tear his Dad and Doctor Dad apart, as the universe had already tried millions of times and hadn’t succeeded yet. 

The warm feeling in Peter’s chest, the sense of belonging only increased tenfold as Stephen looked over with a soft grin and gestured for him to join the hug. Peter walked over gratefully and fit his fractured pieces into the caring embrace of the healer and the inventor, relaxing into the group hug as Tony’s vibranium arm wrapped around him solidly. The teen slung his arms around each of the men’s shoulders in turn, happily wedged between all of their soft warmth and hard edges alike, receiving a kiss on each cheek from his dads as an errant piece of his soul fell into it’s rightful place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are to me as Tony is to Stephen. I NEED them like air, so I'd greatly appreciate if you want to leave one with your favourite part of the chapter. Love you guys 3000 <3
> 
> Also, I love Tony and Stephen beyond words, but it was really refreshing to get into another character’s head other than one of them. 
> 
> Yeah, Natasha is alive in this AU (she and Clint both jumped off the cliff to get the soul stone and both survived because of the power of friendship or some shit idk). Not because I particularly like her, but because the Russos did her dirty too. Thanks for fucking nothing, Russos. And Steve isn’t old because Peggy deserved better than him going around and fucking up her timeline. Also, I brought Sam and Bucky along because it makes sense they’d be along for the ride with Steve, and I wanted to allude to WinterFalcon quickly because why not…? (I'll tell you why I included them, it's because imo the only Stove Rodgers ship more unhealthy than Stony is Stucky...)
> 
> Tony asking Steve if he lost his compass made me choke on my drink when I thought of it, I swear that’s one of the best lines I’ve ever written lmao
> 
> There’s a cameo from someone very important in this chapter and you get a cookie if you noticed it.
> 
> Stephen’s dad senses are tingling when he wakes up and realizes Peter isn’t in his room. Luckily Peter has gotten pretty used to Stephen being all floaty and cryptid, or he would have scared the poor kid shitless lmao
> 
> “He’d never pictured having kids, but after viewing the fourteen million possibilities, he couldn’t imagine not having Peter.” Idk about you guys, but this line hit me like a ton of bricks.


	22. Family Is Whoever You’ll Kick Ass For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shared blood is nothing compared to the actions you can take to show your love for the people you consider family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet and I had to sell a part of my soul to finish it, so I hope ya'll enjoy it.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR FAT SHAMING (I do NOT support fat shaming, just so we’re very clear, and the characters who partake in it in this chapter get what was coming to them.)
> 
> I am writing this fic purely for my own enjoyment and healing, so if this chapter seems a little wordy, it’s because it’s incredibly self-indulgent, okay?
> 
> I am so soft for Tony and Stephen being so enthusiastic about greeting each other even after a very small amount of time apart.
> 
> Don’t get me wrong, Tony loves Stephen more than life itself, but no one, I repeat NO ONE, is ever going to be able to stop that man from flying off and doing stupid shit in his armour.
> 
> Morgan being protective of Stephen is *clenches fist* so freaking good.
> 
> This chapter shows some of Tony’s stress-eating habits and how this is contributing to his weight gain.
> 
> TIL that Ty Simpkins’ (Harley’s actor) father’s name is Stephen and I don’t think I’ll ever be over this.
> 
> Harley is low-key clingy, just like he was when he was 11 lmao my poor boy has abandonment issues out the wazoo #canrelate
> 
> (Have an absolute fuck ton of end notes, but they’re all spoilers for the chapter, so avoid them until you’re done reading.)

Time.

Time was the only thing that really did anything in the long run.

As much as the therapists, coping techniques from said therapists, various medications (countless pills for anxiety, depression, insomnia, PTSD, etc.), breathing techniques, yoga, working out, and support from family and friends all helped to chip away at a lifetime of built-up trauma, nothing had a corrosive healing edge to it quite like time did. 

When Steve had showed up at the cabin two weeks ago, Tony had immediately logged in his mind how much time it would take for his sleep to no longer be affected by that visit. To be completely honest, his math had been a little off, something Tony wasn’t used to. Last night had been another night spent huddled on the sofa, hazy eyes attempting to focus on the oil-spill swirl of colour on the muted television long after Stephen had fallen asleep beside him. As guilty as he felt about dragging the sorcerer into his time spent in the sleepless wee hours of the morning, Tony couldn’t say he missed the lonely dark of three a.m. nights where he couldn’t breathe. Not so long ago, those nights that might as well have lasted a century for how long they felt, like a nocturnal ice age stretching through the eons, soaking up what little life was left while waiting for sunlight. 

And Stephen never complained. As many times as Tony woke them both up with heart-stopping screams, yelling at phantom demons in his mind, Stephen never got angry with him, never stormed out of the room, never chucked a bottle of sleeping pills at him. It was because he understood. The sorcerer would be a hypocrite to ever berate Tony for the terrors that kept him awake, as he had spent many a night shaking with anxious tremors in the engineer’s arms while Tony assured him over and over that they were both alive. Between the fourteen million possibilities and Stephen’s time spent fighting Dormammu, the sorcerer’s greatest fears boiled down into two recurring themes: Tony’s death and his own. Tony wasn’t sure what it said about Stephen’s sense of self-preservation when a majority of his nightmares seemed to be about Tony’s demise, based around the millions of times he had had to watch him die on Titan. 

Tony didn’t know how to feel about someone else’s greatest fear being his death, literally the thing that kept them up at night. He didn’t know how to react when he had first realized that the only way to comfort Stephen out of those nightmares and into reality was when Tony assured him that he was alive, that he was holding him, that they were both safe. Tony had always assumed that his existence was a bother and a burden to everyone who knew him, just something to put up with, not for lack of love from his closest friends, but because it was the mindset that had been drilled into him indirectly by his father. 

But when Stephen clung to him like a lifeline, shaking hands pressed against his chest right on his arc reactor scar to feel his life force, his heart, and when he looked into Tony’s eyes like he was the rising sun, Tony could at least push those thoughts to the back of his mind, trying to convince himself that he deserved this. He deserved this mutual support and affection, this dependency on one another that went so far past the life force that Tony forgot about it sometimes, the fact that they were physically linked by their very souls. Or soul, rather. It was hard to force himself to believe it, but he was slowly getting better at doing so.

Tony had gotten used to the idea that there wasn’t much that could actually be done about their nightmares, particularly preventing them, as sleeping pills certainly weren’t a cure-all. But the comfort of one another’s presence had been a healing factor that helped in the aftermath even if sleeping in the same bed couldn’t keep the demons in their heads away. In the same way that Stephen’s presence helped to ground Tony’s mind back to reality once he woke up gasping and terrified, Taj had come to have a similar affect on him in the past few months. Tony had been shocked the first time it had happened, but had now come to rely on the large mutt’s presence more than he would ever willingly admit to anyone, especially the somewhat smug sorcerer who had insisted they keep the dog in the first place. 

Taj had been sleeping in their room almost since the very beginning. The first night they had let him in the house, he had sniffed and explored every square inch of the cabin before settling on the carpet in the living room while they ate dinner. By the time Tony and Stephen were going upstairs to go to bed, Taj had trailed after them diligently like it was a nightly occurrence. Tony tried to convince him to stay down in the living room, even tempting him with the offer of the comfiest armchair, but every time he’d gone to join Stephen on the stairs, Taj had been at his heels. Sighing in resignation, Tony relented and allowed the mutt to come upstairs with them, but drew the line at him joining them in their bedroom. Five minutes later, persistent scratching and whining outside their bedroom door had driven Tony to throw the covers off and open the door to let Taj in, muttering all the while about he was only being this clingy to them because none of the kids were home. Stephen so far hadn’t said anything to help or hinder either Tony or the dog, and just watched the scene with a poorly-hidden amused smirk. Taj had almost immediately settled on a few renegade sweatshirts which had fallen on the floor from the hamper, and Tony muttered again about how he supposed they’d have to get a dog bed now. 

In the end, letting Taj stay in their room was as fortunate a decision as letting Levi drape over the edge of the wardrobe at night, the cloak’s designated spot since the incident with Tony powering up his palm respulsor in his sleep. About a week after they had first let Taj sleep in the house, Tony woke himself with recurring nightmare of the memories of Stephen and Peter’s Dusting. Stephen managed to split his time between the Sanctum and the cabin pretty evenly, but this was one of the nights where he had been needed at Kamar Taj, so Tony prepared himself to spend the next few hours at least in hyperventilating misery. He was surprised when he felt a sudden weight on the bed in front of him and a warm tongue licking at his tear-damp cheeks in the dark. Tony automatically reached out for the dog, feeling his solid, furry weight on his legs as he threaded his shaking hands through Taj’s long, thick fur. With whispered praise, Tony felt his heart rate starting to slow back to normal as they sat like that for nearly half an hour, facing each other while Taj nuzzled his cheek in concern. Finally feeling as though sleep might be possible, Tony settled himself back against the pillows and Taj lied down with him, his big, furry body wedged between Tony’s legs and his head resting on Tony’s stomach. Tony kept his good hand on Taj’s head, gently ruffling the soft fur behind his ears as he felt himself relaxing under the dog’s comforting weight, sleep finally pulling heavy at his eyelids again. 

It was things like this that made Tony wonder about what the dog’s life had been before he was a stray. He certainly hadn’t been homeless all his life, what with how quickly he had attached himself to them, along with his ability to do certain things which left Tony baffled. If dishes were left on the counter after a meal, Taj could take glass bowls and put them on the floor without breaking them as he took advantage of the spoils left in his reach. Once he had even taken a cast iron pan half full of scrambled eggs and licked it clean, and Tony had been none the wiser until he walked into the kitchen, puzzling over how Taj had gotten the heavy pan from stove to floor so silently. Footage provided by FRIDAY showed the dog standing on his back legs and carefully taking the side of the pan in his teeth, lowering it to the floor carefully before eating from it. He could also open doors with his paws, picked his leash up to give to whoever was walking him, and would fetch any item in the house once he had been taught what it was called, making Tony think that he had been trained as a service dog for his previous owner. Besides this, Taj seemed to be able to sense what each member of the family needed from him and how they needed to be treated accordingly. He seemed to know that he needed to be gentle with Morgan even if she was a little too exuberant with him sometimes, he knew he could rough house with Harley and Peter, and that he needed to be gentle and calm when Stephen patted him, often times licking his hand scars tenderly to the point of almost bringing the sorcerer to touched tears. When it came down to it, Tony could never decide who had really saved who.

So, time passed and nightmares came and went as they moved farther away from April, and Tony tried to convince himself that it wasn’t all a dream that he was going to wake up from. He tried to convince himself that the peaceful mornings were real, that getting up to watch the sunrise with Stephen, coffee and tea in hand, was real and solid and it was going to stay. Stephen was going to stay. He tried to convince himself that waking up side-by-side was fathomable, making breakfast together was safe, tinkering in the garage wasn’t something that was going to get him yelled at. Instead, Stephen would bring coffee out to him in the garage after the breakfast dishes were done, talking about their plans for the day, or asking him about the suit (because Iron Sorcerer was halfway done by now), asking Tony questions as he was genuinely interested in what he was working on. Those were the good moments, standing in the garage together and laughing while they forgot the nightmares from the night before for the time being. 

There were a lot of good moments, interspersed in between the hard moments, more than making up for any of the sleepless nights they spent together. There were sleepy morning kisses in the kitchen while they were making breakfast, rainy days spent reading in bed while Taj did his best to divide his cuddles between them evenly, silly dancing in the living room with the kids, which usually ended with breathless laughter on the sofa after Tony tried to bust a move, everyone huddled in oversized sweatshirts around the bonfire outside as late night marshmallows were roasted. 

It had really only been two and half months, but it feel like they had been together for years, and Tony sometimes forgot that he hadn’t known the sorcerer his entire life just for how comfortable they were with each other. Lately, Tony had found that they were even more at ease to show physical affection with one another, as if their first time together had opened up a whole other door of their relationship. Vulnerability didn’t count when they both wanted to do their all to show how loved the other was, giving each other little reassuring kisses and touches as often as possible. It was something neither of them were used to, but it felt right with each other. They still had their insecurities, of course, as even heartfelt, whispered ‘I love you’s couldn’t erase scars or years of poor self-confidence, but they were both getting better at tearing away their last defensive mask to be completely open with one another.

This was difficult for Tony especially, as he had spent most of his life with that innermost mask up constantly as a last line of defence against probing eyes, even from his closest friends at times. So giving himself up to honest, open intimacy was a huge hurdle that they were slowly, but willingly dragging each other over. Tony never would have imagined himself getting this worked up over anyone at fifty three, but Stephen’s mere presence, the elegant lines of his body, and oh _God_, his _voice, _they did things to him that he couldn’t fully explain. In contradiction to this was Tony’s own bewilderment at what Stephen saw in him when it came to physical attraction. Sure, he’d been pretty good-looking back in his day, but that had all but disappeared with time, the added grey to his hair and wrinkles to his face, never mind the Snap and all the changes to his body that had come along with it. Despite this, Stephen never wasted an opportunity to tell Tony how beautiful he thought he was, something Tony admittedly hadn’t gotten any better at accepting. 

Unfortunately, they hadn’t had much time to themselves in the past month and a half since their first time at the Sanctum. Between Stephen’s work schedule (which was erratic at best) and Harley moving in with them full time since his school year ended, the opportunities for intimate moments were few and far between as the chances of a kid-free house dwindled and Stephen’s work load increased. Despite this, they made the most of the time they could get to familiarize themselves with each other in this new aspect of their relationship. Even if actual intercourse wasn’t involved, there was plenty of half-clothed ‘cuddling’ before bed on the nights that Stephen was at the cabin, kissing and touching and fooling around in general as they got comfortable with each other’s bodies (though Tony still refused to take his shirt off), and mostly learning what the other liked. 

Time was useful for other things too, no matter how short it had really been, that allowed them to settle into each other’s quirks and habits, getting to know each other on a different level than before they were officially ‘together’. It was little things like Stephen learning how Tony still didn’t like to be handed things sometimes, how he couldn’t stand loud noises unless he was given ample warning in advance, and that he had a bit of an oral fixation which tended to drive the sorcerer up the wall. Tony had to get used to things too, like how Stephen was a ridiculously early riser even when he did sleep, he was extremely particular about how his tea was made, he was a bit of an astronomy fanatic (ironic, really), and he often needed reminding as to what reality he was in. This last one had been jarring and heartbreaking when Tony had first found out about it, as Stephen had asked him because he couldn’t rely on his own brain to accurately reassure himself after waking up from a particularly bad dream. 

“What…what do you mean, Steph?”, Tony had asked, dumbfounded, still groggy with sleep as he propped himself up on one elbow.

“I mean…which number?”, Stephen clarified, voice shaky with concern, as if he feared the worst from Tony’s answer.

“Oh. Right. You said this one is 14,000,606”, Tony supplied as calmly as possible, still reeling from the question. He couldn’t imagine what it was like having seen so many realities, Stephen’s eidetic memory meaning he was unable to forget them, horrified at the thought of the fear the sorcerer must have felt at second-guessing his own reality. One of the first things Stephen had ever said to him was his snarky retort of ,_“Protecting your reality, douchebag”_, as he explained what his job was. Well, now Stephen needed his reality protected, he needed someone to pull him out of his own mind with the assurance that the world wasn’t going to fall apart anymore. The reminder that they had won, though it had almost taken everything to get there. 

“Oh”, was Stephen’s whispered answer as he fingered his arc reactor pendant shakily, eyes softening with relief as the panic left his face.

“Yeah”, Tony soothed softly, voice wavering despite himself. “Remember? The one with the…the Snap”, he held his cybernetic arm up, gently tracing the scars on Stephen’s arm with the silicon fingertips. “And you saved me?”, Tony choked out as he reminded him, trailing his metal hand up Stephen’s arm to his bare chest, pressing his palm against the centre of his sternum in one of their usual grounding techniques. 

“I remember”, Stephen nodded quietly, reaching out with his own shaking, scarred hand to mirror his action and press against Tony’s chest right on his arc reactor scar, voice raspy as he blinked back tears. 

That was the problem. He remembered everything. He couldn’t seem to forget, and all the realities mixed together until he couldn’t differentiate between what was real and what his mind insisted might be real. It happened most often right after he woke up from nightmares, when he realized with gasping breaths and terror-stricken tremors that Tony was still alive. But sometimes it happened out of nowhere, like when they were cleaning up after dinner and Stephen would freeze with his hands still in the dishwater, turning to look at Tony with a terrifying stillness and ask him to remind him what reality this was. It was unnerving to see the usually competent, unshakable sorcerer so disturbed, but all Tony could do was keep being there to reassure him when he needed it.

It was after several months of this pattern that Tony had jokingly suggested that Stephen should get a tattoo of the number, just to offer them both peace of mind. He hadn’t realized Stephen had actually taken the idea into consideration until the sorcerer showed up at the cabin with the telltale inflamed flesh of fresh ink on his inner forearm. Tony had barely hidden his shock as he took Stephen’s wrist in his hand, something in his chest fracturing at seeing that poignant number in writing, black and weeping on his partner’s skin. The numbers were small and sensible, with rounded font like binary code, running perpendicular to Stephen’s phone watch on his inner left forearm. 

“Babe, I was kidding when I said that”, Tony told him, heartbroken as he cradled the sorcerer’s forearm in his hands. “You know I don’t mind reminding you when you need it.”

“I know, I just want to be able to remember”, Stephen admitted brokenly, glancing down at the tattoo like he was reminding himself again before resting his free hand on Tony’s shoulder, looking into his eyes resolutely. “Besides, you’re not always with me when it happens. I know it’s a little extreme, but it’s the one thing I want to remember.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “I can’t keep forgetting that this is real.” Tony nodded quietly, heart catching at the hurt he saw in those copper-tinged turquoise eyes, hating how lost Stephen looked every time he forgot.

“I understand”, he rasped, pulling the sorcerer into a hug, cheek pressed against the taller man’s shoulder as he rocked him gently side to side. He could understand better than anyone else the constant ‘pinch-me-this-can’t-be-real’ feeling of their new life with each other, the fact that they had been lucky enough to end up in this reality. If anything, they should be able to celebrate that number eventually, the fact that it existed and that they had been able to get here. And if Tony believed in lucky numbers, he would have dubbed 14,000,606 as their’s.

*****

It was easy to fall into a routine when you had a four-year-old to take care of. 

Stephen’s time being slowly incorporated into the Stark household meant he had quickly memorized Tony’s half of Morgan’s custody schedule once Tony and Pepper had been separated, though it had only recently affected his own schedule in the past months since he and Tony had been together. Today was a Friday and every other Friday meant Morgan was picked up at the cabin or dropped of in Queens to spend the weekend with her mother. Unfortunately, this particular Friday afternoon saw Tony in Wakanda for a cybernetic arm checkup with Dr. Baradii and Shuri, and of course Stephen had offered to open a gateway there for him, also insisting to Tony that he would be fine waiting at the cabin with Morgan until Pepper came to get her. Tony had been grateful, but extremely hesitant, fearing for what kind of altercation could take place between the two in his absence.

Pepper wasn’t sure when her SI meeting would be over (she had resumed her position as full-time CEO the second she and Tony had gotten separated, which seemed contradictory, but she had put so much time and energy into the company over the years that she had refused to drop it just because she was taking her maiden name again), so had told Tony she would drive over when she was done, though Stephen wasn’t sure whether Tony had mentioned Stephen’s presence in his stead. Stephen usually tried his best to steer clear of Pepper during picking up or dropping Morgan off, and their interactions so far had been mercifully brief and rare, though incredibly tense. Today would prove to be no different. 

Sometime around four p.m., Morgan was colouring one of her infamous purple giraffes at the dining room table as Stephen read across from her, his heart jumping in his chest when there was a sudden knock at the front door. Morgan dropped her crayons as she lurched out of her chair at lightning speed and raced with Taj barking beside here to the door, opening it to reveal Pepper standing on the porch in an immaculate black pinstripe pantsuit. Despite her dressy outfit, Pepper dropped into a crouch with a smile as she welcomed her daughter into her arms, ignoring Taj as usual while he sniffed at her excitedly. Stephen’s heart jumped into his throat as she spotted him over Morgan’s shoulder, her eyebrows drawing together in apparent confusion. Stephen would admit that he usually made himself scarce even when she came to the cabin, a fact he wasn’t proud of, but it had definitely prevented many awkward situations in the past few months. Feeling incredibly under dressed in a t shirt and track pants, Stephen stood with a half smile as he walked to the front hall, feeling as though his feet were made of lead. 

“Stephen”, Pepper greeted levelly as she straightened up from her crouched position, still not quite as tall as the sorcerer despite her heels. “Good to see you again”, she added with a smile that could have been mistaken for warm and genuine. She was a business woman, Stephen mused quietly to himself. She knew how to deal with the slimiest, soul-sucking people on Earth without breaking a sweat, bartering deals for her company, and conducting a board room of crude men like a pen full of puppies. She wasn’t intimidated by Stephen, at least not outwardly, but he could see the flicker of insecurity pass through her eyes as she took in his casual wardrobe, his book on the table, Levi draped over the back of his chair. 

**_That’s right_**, Stephen thought almost self-assuredly. **_I’m here to stay. _**

“Nice to see you too”, he said instead, arms crossed loosely to hide his hand scars, certainly not to look defensive. “You look well.” That’s the kind of thing people said, right? Hell, what _could_ you say to your boyfriend’s ex-wife?

“Mommy, come see what I coloured”, Morgan piped up, oblivious to the tension in the room as she tugged on her mom’s hand.

“Show me in the car, sweetie. We have to get going, okay?”, Pepper smiled softly, obviously eager to leave as soon as possible.

“Okay. Doc, where’s my Spidey?”, Morgan asked as she looked up at Stephen, gently holding two of his large, scarred fingers in her small hand like a subconscious reflex.

“Back den, I think, darlin’”, Stephen responded softly, doing his best to ignore Pepper’s sharp, penetrating gaze. Morgan nodded as she ran to gather her Spider-Man plush and a few of her other toys from the den. The tension in the room practically crackled in the air as the two adults were left in awkward silence, Taj’s tail swishing idly on the hardwood floor as he sat beside Stephen and they both appraised their intruder silently. Pepper’s eyes flicked around the room without being too obvious about it, apparently taking in the subtle changes to the living room and kitchen since Stephen had effectively moved in. 

There were a few plants he had brought from the Sanctum (Tony had been happy to provide company to their two resident house plants, Benjamin and Jeremy), there were more candles scattered about that were often lit for Stephen’s meditation or romantic nights in, along with a smattering of books and tea mugs which seemed to always be left in the sorcerer’s wake, deposited like errant piles of dust whenever he settled in one spot for long enough. All in all, it wasn’t just Tony’s house anymore, and it certainly wasn’t the home Pepper had left behind. And Stephen could see by the look in the blonde’s eyes that she was painfully aware of this fact, her jaw set in a cold, hard line as she did everything to avoid eye contact with him. A small tendril of pity began to weave it’s way into Stephen’s chest as he watched her reaction, about to open his mouth to initiate some sort of small talk when her eyes suddenly met his, icy blue and snapping like a cool flame in the wind.

“Tony’s not here?”, she asked suddenly with a raised brow, though she obviously knew the answer. “He left you alone with Morgan?” Stephen was almost bowled over by the contrasting insecurity and indignation that her words brought to his chest, shoved up under his heart like a ball of thorns.

“Yes”, he replied as levelly as possible, feeling like a fox knowingly walking into a baited trap. Pepper seemed almost amused by his answer, the corner of her crimson lips twitching upwards minutely.

“And you don’t see the problem there?”, she asked, as though she were asking a particularly dumb child where his nose was.

“I suppose I don’t”, Stephen replied stiffly, a clustered hornet’s nest of hot rage building in the centre of his ribcage. This was why he usually went upstairs when Pepper came over, he reminded himself. “If you have an issue with who Tony leaves Morgan with, I think that’s something you should bring up with him. I don’t mean to-.”

“You know you’re not her dad, right?”, Pepper snipped, leering at him as if she wished he would just dissolve into the floor. At this point, Stephen was almost hoping that he could do exactly that. The impact of those words hit him like a full-body blow, travelling through every nerve in his body until each letter ended up lodged in his fingertips, making his hands ache sharply with something other than nerve damage. The doctor side of his brain supplied that the aching in his fingertips was caused by unusual contractions of the heart, usually brought on by severe emotional distress and therefore affecting blood flow into the extremities. His tongue felt heavy and useless in his mouth, like a piece of unattached muscle just taking up space between his teeth.

“I don’t-.”

“You’re not her dad”, Pepper repeated, and she seemed to know how much those words hurt. Stephen wasn’t an idiot, he knew he wasn’t Morgan’s father, not by blood or even marriage, but it hadn’t hurt to pretend, had it? All the hugs and bedtime stories and tickle fights hadn’t done her any harm, had they? Maybe he had been selfish, latching on to her as the daughter he had never had, treasuring her like the tiny missing piece of his life that he hadn’t even known he’d been lacking.

“She already has her father”, Pepper said calmly, her voice low and measured, barely suppressing her own inner rage as her voice slowly built in volume. “It doesn’t matter whether you and Tony are together or not, or what he says to you just because he likes to make people feel good. She doesn’t need you!” Stephen opened his mouth to respond, to try and defend himself without portraying just how broken his heart was, but no words came, so he stood gaping at her as he felt his chest collapsing in on itself. The familiar pounding of tiny feet down the hall dissolved some of the crumbling concrete tension held between the eyes of the sorcerer and the business woman. 

Pepper took Morgan’s hand in hers like the trophy of a small victory as they turned to the door, and Stephen would have let them leave, would have watched them walk out as he tried to catch the crumbling pieces of his heart in useless, shaking hands. But Morgan pulled out of her mom’s grip and rushed back to Stephen, arms held up to the sorcerer expectantly, looking up at him with her big, chocolate brown eyes. Stephen lowered himself to his knees carefully, like the side of an iceberg slipping off and into the frigid ocean, some of his numbness being absorbed by Morgan’s little arms wrapped gently around his neck. 

“You be a good girl, Miss Morgan. I’ll see you Wednesday, okay?”, Stephen muttered as he hugged her back tightly but carefully, steadfastly avoiding Pepper’s no-doubt livid gaze, even once Morgan had given him a cheek kiss and released her hold on him. Stephen stood in order to see them out the front door, waving his goodbye to Morgan before ducking back into the cabin, letting the screen door slam behind him unceremoniously. 

Dropping onto the couch, Stephen buried his face in his hands, taking deep, shaky breaths as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Levi floated over from their spot on his chair, wrapping around Stephen tightly in an attempt to comfort him, patting his cheek softly. His entire chest was burning with the choked wetness of the sobs buried in his lungs, his throat so tight it hurt from trying to keep the tears down, choking on the guilt and anger and emptiness that Pepper’s words had brought tearing through his heart. He told himself that he was overreacting, that her opinion didn’t mean anything, but those words worked their way in past his defensive barriers and chewed away at the months he had spent building his close, comfortable relationship with Morgan. 

A cold nose on his hand drew Stephen out from his misery, followed by a soft muzzle which nudged against his hand insistently until he drew a shaking hand over Taj’s head. A warm tongue flickered over Stephen’s cheek as he pressed his forehead against the dog’s, holding his thick ruff in both hands on either side of his neck, the sorcerer rocking them side to side slowly with a playful growl. The growl turned into whimpers into choked sobs as Taj pressed closer, steady and gentle, and Stephen broke, face pressed into thick fur and held by caring crimson fabric as he cried. 

*****

Tony would never get tired of the sight of a gateway opening to reveal his wizard on the other side, their life force connection bleeding through the inter dimensional opening even before it was fully open. 

Tony had been waiting in front of the Wakandan hospital after the checkup for his cybernetic arm on Friday afternoon, chatting idly with Shuri in the warm sunlight. His arm was in perfect working order, though Shuri had scolded him endlessly for tinkering with it without her permission, even if he could see the impressed glimmer in the teenage genius’s eyes at his addition of a locking mechanism for his palm repulsor based on his heart rate. They were discussing further updates they could make to improve the safety features of his arm when a familiar spark of gold began to bleed into the air a few metres in front of them, quickly opening further into a large ring as Tony caught sight of the sorcerer on the other side. Thanking Shuri for her time and insisting she stay for dinner next time she was at the cabin, Tony sauntered forward as casually as possible as he enjoyed the familiar warmth pulsing in his chest from the closeness of his and Stephen’s life force. Not able to help himself, Tony half-jogged the last few feet through the gateway, which snapped shut behind him a second later, meeting Stephen in a hug that would have bowled the sorcerer over if not for Tony’s arms wrapped around his waist. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d been gone for months”, Stephen chuckled, his tone teasing despite the way he was holding on to Tony’s shoulders tightly, trying to deny the soft blush that had worked its way onto his cheeks as Tony pressed loving kisses across his jaw.

“I’d say an afternoon away is enough to miss you, babe”, Tony insisted, hugging Stephen tightly as he breathed in his familiar tea and incense scent, loving the way he could fluster the stoic sorcerer so easily. “Hmm, why do you smell like cheeseburgers? You cheating on me with a fast food joint?” Stephen got him back with a quick kiss on the lips, wrapping an arm around Tony’s shoulders as he lead him up the steps of the front porch.

“Not quite. I haven’t quite gained your affinity for Burger King as one of the major food groups. And maybe I smell like that because I made burgers for you?”, Stephen suggested, holding the door open for him as Tony stepped inside the cabin. “I’ve been slaving away over the stove for hours, so you better appreciate it”, Stephen teased as Tony was immediately flooded with the heavenly scent of his favourite comfort food and an enthusiastic greeting from Levi. The table was set with massive, cheese-covered burgers and a salad on each of their plates, the usual vanilla scented candle lit in the centre of the kitchen table. 

“Wow, candle lit diner food for our hot date at home. Ritzy, Strange”, Tony jabbed with a playful grin, ignoring Stephen’s eye roll as he pulled the sorcerer back into his arms. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, burgers are absolutely perfect.” He kissed the sorcerer’s cheek multiple times to get him to loosen up. “Thank you so much, baby, I love you.”

“You just love the cheeseburgers. Don’t even try to fool me”, Stephen growled softly, making a half-hearted attempt at pushing Tony away before succumbing to his embrace, practically purring as he accepted Tony’s mouth against his. Still as vibrant and sweet as their first kiss, every touch like a silent prayer of thanks, Tony could feel an edge of vulnerability in the kiss as he sensed the sorcerer’s need for comfort and validation. Stephen’s lips were dry and warm as Tony pressed up into them, bracing his hands on the sorcerer’s broad shoulders in attempt to let him know that he was here, solid and safe and willing to give him every ounce of comfort in his body. He pulled back slowly when he felt some of the coiled-spring tension in Stephen’s core dissolve, placing a few more gentle pecks to his lips as he let himself get lost in grateful, sea-green eyes.

“I love you too”, Stephen muttered softly, taking his hand as they sat down to eat.

Dinner was quiet with just the two of them, as Harley was out with some newly-made friends or on a date (Tony couldn’t remember which), their conversation alternating between Tony claiming he was going to marry the cheeseburgers and filling Stephen in on update suggestions for his cybernetic arm. He also asked how Morgan being picked up had gone, noticing the way the sorcerer started fidgeting with his glass of water as he assured Tony that all had gone well. Stephen had always been a notoriously good listener, quiet and contemplative whenever Tony unloaded whatever stress he needed to, or just in general conversation. But tonight was different as Tony could practically see the sorcerer’s mind wandering behind those perceptive sea glass eyes, visibly pulling himself back to the present every few minutes.

“What’s up with you, honey?”, Tony asked finally, wiping his mouth on his napkin, head cocked to the side slightly in concern. “You’re really quiet tonight, more so than usual.”

“Only because I can never get a word in edgewise”, Stephen smirked dryly, attempting to divert the conversation, but Tony just tilted his head in gentle reasoning. He reached out to gently place his good hand on the sorcerer’s wrist, his thumb pressed against his tattoo like a soft reminder. 

“C’mon, Steph. It’s me. Just tell me what’s on your mind.” Tony watched as something slackened in the sorcerer’s shoulders in relief, though he still fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“Do you think I’m a good influence on the kids?”, Stephen asked suddenly, avoiding Tony’s gaze as if the open wound vulnerability of his question was too much to bear. 

“A good-?” Tony blinked, his mind reeling as he tried to imagine where this was coming from, but he drew a blank. “What do you mean, Steph? I’m not sure what kind of influence you mean. Like, magic influence? ‘Cause you certainly have that down.” Stephen shook his head, frustrated but clearly embarrassed.

“No, I meant…more of a parental influence, I suppose.” Tony’s frowned in concern as he watched the sorcerer choke up at his own words. “More like how…Peter’s been seeing me lately, especially since telling him about the fourteen million.” He paused, clearly struggling to find the words he needed. “I’m sorry, I know this is out of nowhere, I’m just-.” Stephen ducked his head and Tony rubbed his wrist reassuringly despite the confused beating in his own chest, tense with anticipation. “You don’t..you don’t mind that Peter sees me as…somewhat of a dad, I guess?…Is what I’m trying to say.” Tony blinked, dumbfounded.

“If I don’t _mind_?”, Tony clarified, brow pinched in sympathy. “Baby, everything I could ever want is for you two to get along so well, especially after hearing about all those realities. And for god’s sakes, he’s the one who asked if he could call you ‘Doctor Dad’ wasn’t he?” Stephen nodded, quietly reassured, though he still looked like he was choking on words he didn’t know how to say.

“And Morgan? You’re fine with…how I treat her and everything? I don’t…I don’t want to step out of bounds.”

“Out of bounds?”, Tony repeated, heart crumbling a little at the broken, almost guilty expression on Stephen’s face. “What bounds would you be out of, Doc? You’re part of the family and Morgan loves you to death. So does Peter. And I don’t know how you did it, but Harley definitely doesn’t hate you anymore.” The flicker of a grin this prompted from Stephen wasn’t the laugh Tony had been hoping for, but he’d take it. Anything was better than the insecure, self-loathing expression that had camped itself on the sorcerer’s face. 

“I know I’m not exactly fit to be a father figure to anyone, but I still want to try my best to be here for these kids”, Stephen admitted in one breath, meeting Tony’s eyes with soul-baring clarity. He’d die for these kids, Tony knew that now. He’d die for Tony too (he almost had), but that was even more uncomfortable to think about. 

“You do try your best. I see that every day”, Tony assured him gently. “And I want you to, just in case there was any doubt there. These kids are my life now, but they can be a handful and I’d really rather not do the whole dad thing alone.” Tony slid his hand down Stephen’s wrist, interlocking their fingers together as he met his eyes steadily. “You’re so amazing with them. You astound me everyday, Steph, with how good you are despite all the crap you believe about not being good with kids. It’s taken me, what? Eights years to figure this whole dad thing out, and I still don’t have it figured out, really. But you come along and you’ve got it almost down pat in less than a year.” Tony got his laugh this time, though it was a little more self-deprecating than he would have liked. 

“Heh. Not quite”, Stephen said with a smile, his voice softening as he shook his head slightly. “And I don’t expect them to call me ‘Dad’, I don’t need that from Morgan. I just want to help you be that person for them.” Tony felt as though his heart was bursting with love as he squeezed Stephen’s hand gently. His kids were everything to him, his new reason to live now that being Iron Man wasn’t his entire life, so to hear and see the proof of Stephen’s undying devotion to not only Tony, but to his kids also was enough for Tony to have whipped out a ring right then and there.

“So do I”, Tony confirmed resolutely. “And you are, and you will be…you’re already a second dad to her even if she calls you ‘Doc’ for the rest of her life.” The pleased, overwhelmed smile that this brought to the sorcerer’s face was one of the things that made it all worth it. The Snap, all the pain that followed, it was worth it as long as Tony had his kids and this kind, beautiful man beside him. 

“Thank you”, Stephen muttered gratefully as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Tony shook his head almost dismissively. There was no thanks necessary, though he was still a little confused about what had brought the conversation on in the first place. 

“Where’d this come from anyway?”, Tony asked, watching Stephen’s expression falter as he sipped from his glass of water. “Have I been making you feel like that? Because I swear to god, Stephen, I didn’t-.”

“It wasn’t you”, Stephen assured quickly, looking terrified at the implication. “It was, uh…something Pepper said actually.”

“What the hell did Pepper say?”, Tony said, eyes snapping with a guarded fire. “Was thin when she came to pick Morgan up? You told me everything went fine.”

“Well…” Stephen stalled, fidgeting with his watch. “It was mostly fine, until Morgan went to grab some of her toys and I guess Pepper was feeling a little insecure, which would be understandable. But she just started saying stuff like I was never going to be Morgan’s dad, and what ever you told me about that would be crap because you just like to make people feel good. The first part is true and I know that, obviously. She was just being a little harsh, I suppose.”

Tony didn’t even hear Stephen’s half-hearted excuses for his ex-wife, standing from his seat as unjust ire boiled in his chest. He tasted hot iron in his mouth and realized he had been biting his cheek, swallowing the blood that had gathered in his cheek thickly as he pulled his sweatshirt off, the nano tech arc reactor visible on his chest as he’d worn it above his t shirt that day. He still had on the nanite-infused track pants and shirt which he usually only wore for trips to Wakanda, as he was comfortable with just the nano housing on his chest when they went for a casual family outing. The clothing stored excess materials for suit generation, which provided an extra supply of nanobots and made the armour stronger, neither of which were necessary for a quick trip to Queens. Stephen saw him preparing to engage the armour and his eyes widened in alarm.

“Tony, please don’t. It’s not worth it.” But Tony was past reason as he stormed out of the kitchen and through the front door, tapping the arc reactor the second he was on the porch, ignoring Stephen trailing after him. “Tony, no! Don’t make a thing out of it.” But the sorcerer’s words were lost behind him as the armour finished encasing him like a high-speed metallic chrysalis and he jumped off the porch steps before shooting up into the sky. 

It was the first time he had actually flown in the armour since the space snake attack in Greenwich, but wearing the suit was like sliding a favourite pair of old gloves on, molded to his body perfectly and comfortable like an extension of himself. His only qualm about this flight was the annoyance he felt at the very slight curvature to the abdomen of the form-adaptive nanotech armour, a dead giveaway for the weight he had gained. But Tony couldn’t focus on his figure for long as protective rage still heated his blood and the very surface of his skin. He didn’t have very long to fume, though, as the trip from Bethel to Queens at mach two only took him about five minutes.

Making sure the sidewalk was clear, Tony dropped down onto it in a slight crouch, ignoring the way his knees protested and disengaged the armour. The nanobots slid back into his chest piece like liquid mercury as he jogged up the steps of his ex-wife’s town house, pounding on the door with the metal knuckles of his cybernetic hand, hoping the dimples he accidentally left in the wood weren’t too noticeable. Pepper opened the door with a frown, probably at how hard he had been knocking, but her expression did nothing but fuel his anger.

“Hi, Pepper. Is Morgan inside?”, he asked, a forced smile in his face that might have come off a bit aggressive. 

“No, she’s at a friend’s house”, she said, brow furrowed in confusion. “Tony, what are you-?”

“Great”, Tony said, striding past her and in to the house, surprised that he had been able to keep his anger bottled up while standing on the stoop. Pepper just closed the door and followed him inside with a sigh. Tony whipped around in the hall to face her again, fist clenched as he gripped his left wrist in his trembling cybernetic hand, his entire body vibrating with resentful energy.

“Should I yell at you now?”, he snapped sarcastically, bitterness seeping into his tone. “Criticize your parenting skills in your own home?”

“He told you about that?”, Pepper asked, eyes widening in accusation as she crossed her arms defensively.

“Of course he told me about that!”, Tony exploded, hands thrown up in exasperation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing coming into my house and spouting that bullshit to Stephen?!”

“Do you see the way he acts around Morgan?”, Pepper asked, equally furious as she glowered at him. “He treats her like she’s his daughter. He has no right to treat our-!”

“He has every right to!”, Tony spat, barely able to swallow past the choked rage constricting his throat, holding a metal finger up in front of Pepper’s face as she opened her mouth to retort. “He is my partner and part of Morgan’s family, and you might not like it, but that is the way things are now. This is not a negotiation, this is not a conversation.” Tony drew himself up to his full height, which admittedly wasn’t much, but he made up for it with the amount of fury coursing through his body as he brought himself nose to nose with Pepper, meeting the discomfort and irritation in her sharp blue eyes. She was clearly still uncomfortable looking at his scars and blind eye, still scared of his cybernetic arm. Good. He’d use that.

“This is me coming here and yelling at you, because you have pissed me off royally, Pepper! I swear to god if you ever attack and yell at my boyfriend like that again, I will make your life a living hell!” And maybe he yelled at her for all the times before when he hadn’t yelled, for Morgan’s sake. He yelled at her for all the times she had made him feel like this, with how she had just treated Stephen, making him feel small and sick at heart, invalidating his feelings by sweeping them under her sharp-edged, symmetrical rug of perfection. 

Pepper opened her mouth to talk again, but he didn’t give her a chance to respond. Tony didn’t want to hear her argument or her half-baked excuses, instead sweeping out the door and speed walking down the street, hands shoved in the pockets of his track pants as he ignored the glances he was receiving from most everyone he passed. His nerves were still firing red-hot rage in tandem with each step he took and, despite the massive cheeseburger and salad he had just eaten with Stephen, there was an empty pit in his stomach that was trying to swallow him whole. Between this and the mix of emotions at finally ripping Pepper a new one after years of being an emotional punching bag, Tony couldn’t help himself as he slipped his shades on and stepped in the front door of the Burger King he spotted on the corner of the street. He needed comfort food. 

*****

Things were able to resolve to somewhat near normal over the next few days, as the adults were able to put their differences aside in order to focus on celebrating Morgan’s fifth birthday. Her actual birthday (May 14, as Tony had always joked that her birth had been like an early birthday present to him) fell on a Tuesday, one of Pepper’s designated custody days, so Pepper hosted the kid-centric party at the Queen’s townhouse while inviting several of Morgan’s friends from her daycare. Then Wednesday was Tony and Stephen’s turn to host as the entire family came over to the cabin for a lunch of cheeseburgers on the grill, with chocolate birthday cake and presents afterwards. Before the whole altercation with Pepper picking Morgan up on Friday, Tony would have expected at least an attempt to be civil and make an effort to replicate their usual close-knit family gatherings (which now included May and Peter), but Pepper had dropped Morgan off and promptly left after her mandatory polite greetings to everyone except Stephen. Tony could see plainly that the sorcerer felt enormously guilty about the whole situation, blaming himself for driving a rift in their family, but Tony assured him that Pepper was the one who had a problem, and hopefully time would allow them to be one cohesive unit again.

Despite her attitude surrounding the whole situation with Morgan’s birthday, Tony ended up not having to make good of his threats to Pepper. Exactly two weeks after the initial spat between Stephen and Pepper, a very similar situation occurred, but with a solution this time that no one, least of all Stephen, would have ever expected.

Pepper had been Upstate visiting a friend when she came by the cabin again to pick Morgan up for the weekend, but her visit had ended early, meaning Tony was in the shower when she came to the door. Now, Stephen had just barely enough pride to walk up and answer the door, his confidence bolstered by Taj’s booming barks and the huge mutt’s presence beside him as he pulled the screen door open. Pepper looked significantly less intimidating this time in a t shirt and a pair of slacks, though her hair was still drawn up into a savagely-tight high pony tail, greeting the sorcerer with a thin smile as he let her step inside. Morgan came pounding down the stairs a few moments later, but froze on the last step when she saw that it was Stephen who had opened the door and was in a polite stand off with her mom, recreating the scene from two weeks ago almost perfectly. 

“Hi, sweetie”, Pepper smiled at her, her expression changing in a split second as she looked past Stephen. “You ready to go?” Morgan surprised them both when she shook her head no, uncharacteristically shy as her mouth was pulled into a frown. Stephen crouched down to her level immediately, ignoring Pepper’s words from the other week as they ran through his head, holding a hand out to Morgan in an attempt to coax her from her position clinging to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs.

“What’s wrong, darling?”, Stephen asked softly, still holding a shaking hand out to her in an invitation to his open arms. “You can tell us if there’s something upsetting you.” Morgan nodded once before peeling herself off the bannister, walking over and slumping against the sorcerer’s chest, sitting on his knee as she hid her face in his neck. Stephen wrapped an arm around her back, balancing in his crouched position while he tried his best to ignore the icy daggers Pepper was drilling into the side of his face.

“Mommy made Doc sad last time. I don’t like when people yell”, Morgan told them, avoiding eye contact as her little fingers played with the layered collar of the casual robe the sorcerer was wearing. Stephen’s brow rose in understanding at the same time his heart beat with elation, waiting for the onslaught from Pepper as her daughter seemed to pick sides for the moment, at least. Morgan’s sensitivity to a slightly raised voice showed what a thorough job Tony and Pepper had done of ensuring they never argued in front of her, and Stephen watched as an indeterminate number of emotions played over Pepper’s face, ranging from guilt to frustration. 

“I’m sorry you heard that, honey”, Pepper told Morgan patiently. “Sometimes adults disagree about something, but that doesn’t mean that someone is a bad person if they yell.” Morgan was smarter than most people would give a five-year-old credit for, and she seemed to realize her mom wasn’t taking credit for the unrest she had caused two weeks ago. Wary of her mother’s contradictory words, Morgan just looked back at Pepper with a pout, maintaining her perch on Stephen’s knee as she held two of his scarred fingers in her tiny fist. 

“I promise I won’t yell at him again, Morgan”, Pepper said, trying to remediate her daughter’s faith in her. “Let’s get going, okay? We’re going to have a fun weekend at home, lots of baking and crafts.”

“I want to stay with Dad”, Morgan whimpered at the same time as she wrapped her arms around Stephen’s neck again, hiding her face against his robe. Stephen’s heart skipped a beat as he met the quietly murderous, heartbroken look in Pepper’s eyes, silently willing Tony to quit taking so long in the shower.

“Of course you can have another weekend at the cabin if you want”, Pepper said with a forced smile, trying to make it sound as if it had been her plan all along. She obviously didn’t want to create a situation where Morgan resented her for making her go with her to the Queens townhouse. “I’ll see you on Monday then, sweetheart, okay? Can Mom have a goodbye hug?” She crouched down with her arms held out hopefully, and Morgan didn’t hesitate to walk over and wrap her arms softly around her mom’s neck, despite the cautious frown that remained on the little girl’s face. Stephen shivered as he realized why it felt like he was experiencing de ja vu, accepting Morgan back into his arms as she traced his hand scars softly and Pepper gave him a dirty look before walking out. The moment was an almost perfect replica of the day almost three months ago, right after the alien serpent battle, standing outside the Metro General as Tony had chosen him over Pepper. Now Morgan had done the same, showing once again how similar she was to her dad as they both had now shown that they wouldn’t stand for Stephen being mistreated, even by the most important woman in their life. 

“Can I paint your nails, Doc?”, Morgan asked, Stephen’s chest lightening as she looked up at him with a tiny smile, still playing with his hands gently. Stephen hugged her gratefully and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair in response. His heart melted completely and he had no choice but to let her lead him to the sofa, gathering a bottle of nail polish from the coffee table after mulling over colour selection for a few moments. Morgan plopped down in his lap the second Stephen sat cross-legged on the sofa, his heart jolting as he realized that Pepper’s demeaning words meant nothing when Morgan herself showed him everyday how much he meant to her. Both facing the same way as she sat nestled in his lap, Morgan directed him to hold his hand flat on his own knee while she applied the polish. Her tiny hand softly held his large, scarred one in place as she made careful brush strokes on his nails, though his hands were barely trembling for once. Morgan had never had any aversion to his scars in the first place, what with being so used to Tony’s, but it still warmed the lingering pit in his abdomen to feel her touch them so casually and with zero judgement.

By the time Tony came downstairs from his shower with Taj charging down the stairs after him, Stephen and Morgan had matching purple nails, her little hands placed on the back of the sorcerer’s, held up to admire their handiwork while the polish dried. Tony visibly softened when he walked in the room, smiling in adoration as he saw how Stephen’s cheek was pressed to Morgan’s temple while they talked together in hushed tones. Morgan ran up to her dad to show off her nails, earning lavish compliments as he scooped her up in his arms for a cheek kiss before setting her down again and she ran to the den to grab one of her toys. When Tony inquired as to whether Pepper had shown up yet, Stephen filled him in quietly so that Morgan wouldn’t overhear the way his voice caught in his throat as he recounted the story of what had happened. Pulling the sorcerer into his arms, Tony’s only response was to draw him into a soft kiss, lips pressed together tenderly until Morgan came back from the den, tugging on Tony’s shirt and insisting on becoming the centre of what they would end up calling a ‘dad sandwich’. 

*****

That same Friday night found Stephen and Morgan as the only two in the cabin once more, as Tony had taken the armour to Queens in order to help Peter with some late night finals studying. It was about 10:45 p.m. as the sorcerer read by lamplight in the living room, having put Morgan to bed hours ago despite her insistence to wait up until Tony came home, but he had tired her out with several bedtime stories and a whispered lullaby until she finally drifted off. 

Checking his watch, Stephen sighed softly before returning to his book. He’d had a long week spent mostly training students at Kamar Taj, busy enough with his duties as a teacher and other menial aspects of his job, that spending nights at the sanctuary as well had made sense. He hadn’t slept in the same bed as Tony all week and had been looking forward to a quiet night in together, his hopes to cuddle on the sofa with a movie and some popcorn dashed as Tony had announced his last-minute plans to assist a certain frantic teen in studying for biochemistry. After feigning offence at Peter not asking for his study help as the resident doctor, Stephen assured Tony that he would be fine to get Morgan to bed, though he asked him to try to be home at a reasonable hour. At this point, Stephen would be surprised if he was back at the cabin before midnight. 

A sudden ringing from the kitchen drew Stephen out of the chapter he was attempting to work through, marking his page and heaving himself to his feet to find Tony’s watch and phone both forgotten on the kitchen table. It was unusual that Tony would forget both pieces of technology that he usually had on his person at all times, but then Stephen remembered that Tony had been using FRIDAY in his shades to talk distractedly to Peter as he had walked out the door, connected by their respective AI like a regular phone call. Looking down at the buzzing screen, Stephen saw a picture of a twelve-year-old Harley on the caller ID, and he hesitated for a second. His relationship with Harley was decidedly smoother than it had been, especially after the progress they had made during Wing Chun on the front lawn, but certainly not always friendly, and he imagined the aloof twenty-one-year-old would be disappointed by him answering the phone when he had been expecting Tony. Nevertheless, Stephen tapped the green phone icon and held the phone up to his ear, bracing himself for the rebuttal that was bound to come.

“Hello?”

“Tony?”, Harley asked in groggy bafflement, sounding like he’d swallowed gravel. Stephen’s concern immediately spiked as he realized that this wasn’t a casual phone call to chat with Tony.

“No, it’s Stephen. Are you alright?”, he responded, working hard to keep the anxious edge out of his voice.

“Got mugged”, Harley replied roughly, quickly distracting himself. “The fuckers took m’ water bottle. Like, the hell would they wan’ with that? It cost two bucks. Go t’ the store, you cheap piece of shit.” Stephen’s heart jumped into his throat as he heard the way Harley was slurring. Hefleetingly considered calling Peter to get a hold of Tony, before deciding that he was equipped to handle this on his own. 

“Harley, where are you?”

“Manhattan?”, Harley supplied helpfully, and Stephen heard a faint crashing noise in the background. He remembered hearing the twenty-one-year-old’s plans to meet up with friends in the city for a few drinks, but he hadn’t caught the name of the bar, or even if they were going to the upper or lower end.

“Okay”, Stephen replied levelly, mostly to calm himself as he heard police sirens in the distance through the phone. “Harley, I need you to stop and tell me what building you’re standing in front of. Does it have a sign?” There was a terrifyingly long pause on the other end before Harley replied.

“Hmm, uh, Reif’s Tavern”, Harley muttered out finally. “’S the last place we went to. The guys grabbed a cab n’ then these fuckers jumped me. Knock m’ fucking tooth out.”

“Okay”, Stephen repeated, remembering seeing a bar by that name once on the upper east side about a year ago. “Stay where you are. I’ll be right there.” Tucking the phone between his cheek and shoulder, Stephen grabbed his sling ring from the key hook by the front door and conjured a gateway. The New York street on the other side was dark and rank with the stench of alcohol-soaked individuals, relief flooding through the sorcerer’s chest as he spotted a familiar mop of blond hair attached to the boy hovering by the front entrance.

“Harley”, Stephen called as he stepped through the gateway, and Harley looked up to reveal a black eye and a swath of blood which had cascaded down from his nose, covering his mouth in glistening crimson. He spit out some of the blood which had been clotting in his cheek, while trying to focus the sorcerer in his gaze.

“You’re not Tony”, Harley said accusingly, swaying on his feet as he peered down at his still lit up phone screen in bewilderment.

“Very astute”, Stephen commented dryly, tucking Tony’s phone in his pocket as he slid an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Careful, someone might recognize you as an MIT student. You’re a disgrace to the very institute”, Stephen said softly even as he tilted Harley’s chin up to survey his black eye in the light from the street, doctor mode kicking in automatically as he assessed his injuries in a split second before pulling him through the gateway. Taj met them in the hall as the gateway snapped shut, obviously woken from his peaceful sleep in Morgan’s room by the sound of the gateway, sniffing at Harley worriedly while Stephen struggled to keep him in an upright position.

“Come on, you”, Stephen huffed, slinging Harley’s arm over his shoulders as he dragged him to the couch, struggling to keep him up as the kid was only an inch shorter than him, all limbs and off balance dead weight under the sorcerer’s hold. Blond head bobbing drunkenly as Stephen steered him into a sitting position on the couch, Harley let himself be manhandled so that he was vaguely upright, though he winced as his ribcage was jostled a bit. Taj followed them and sat in front of Harley, sniffing all over the boy in concern while watching every move the sorcerer made. Stephen sat beside him, holding his head straight as he gently pried the boy’s eyelids open, checking his pupils. No uneven dilation, so there was no fear of a brain hemorrhage.

“What‘re you doin’?”, Harley muttered deliriously, squinting at Stephen in offence. 

“Checking for internal bleeding”, the sorcerer replied evenly as he cast a quick spell, having noticed the way Harley winced when Stephen had lifted his arm over his shoulder to half carry him, indicating bruising to the ribs at the very least. “You somehow got away without any cracked ribs or bleeding”, Stephen mused once he was satisfied his spell had thoroughly checked the boy’s abdomen. The worst Harley had gotten from the altercation was the missing tooth he had mentioned on the phone, though it certainly added to his rakish look, Stephen thought. 

“Yeah, I’m bleedin’, actually”, Harley griped, pointing to his nose with a frown.

“_Internally_, I said”, Stephen deadpanned, but his doctor instincts quickly overrode his dwindling patience. “Can I heal that for you?”, he asked, indicating the boy’s black eye.

“Nuh uh, keep yer magic voodoo shit away from m’, wizar’”, Harley snapped, slurring heavily as he teetered in place on the sofa, like his body was attempting to find equilibrium while his brain was clearly trying to decide why the room was spinning. 

“Fine”, Stephen huffed, standing and striding to the kitchen to fill a bowl full of warm water from the sink. He glanced over into the living room, rolling his eyes minutely at Harley groggily searching for his phone amongst the couch cushions. He hadn’t expected a warm reception from Harley when he had offered his help in Tony’s place, but finding him beaten up and drunk out of his mind wasn’t coinciding with Stephen’s plans for the night so far. A gentle nudge on his shoulder drew Stephen out of his mind, turning to see Levi hovering almost guiltily behind him. Stephen just smirked as he turned back to the sink.

“You’re a little late to the party, m’dear”, he teased, hearing the offended ripple of fabric behind him. “Getting slow in your old age, hmm? Even the dog beat you down here.” Stephen glanced over his shoulder to see Levi’s collar had turned towards the living room as if regarding Taj with malice. “Don’t worry, he’s not gonna replace you. Now, come help me with your oldest kid. He’s a bit of a mess.” Levi trailed behind him back into the living room as Stephen sat beside Harley again with the bowl of warm water and a soft cloth.

“Wuz that for?”, Harley asked, slumped back against the cushions as he tried to peer at Stephen through his swollen eye.

“Your eye”, Stephen sighed patiently. “If you won’t let me use magic, then we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.” Harley made no further retort when the sorcerer moved to lift the damp cloth to his face, tenderly dabbing at the dried blood spattered across the boy’s freckled cheeks. Levi attempted to wrap themselves around Harley, but Stephen shooed them away gently. “Just let me get him cleaned him up first. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of you?” Levi shrugged their collar in response, but resigned to hover behind the sorcerer diligently, alongside Taj who was still watching their patient carefully. 

“Where’s Tony?”, Harley asked, making no indication that he could even feel Stephen’s touch as he started to wipe the cloth around the edges of his black eye, hoping Harley would make an effort to ignore how badly his hands were trembling.

“With Peter”, Stephen offered simply, trying very hard not to be offended. “Don’t worry about him, everything’s fine. Though I wouldn’t mind you telling me what you think you’re doing in the upper east side at this time of night, and with a bunch of people you barely know.”

“Alright, _Doctor Dad_”, Harley mocked, and Stephen couldn’t help but give him a silent glare, not caring how inebriated he was as he wiped the thick crust of blood from the boy’s upper lip and chin. “Y’ realize I dunno anyone here? Had to leave school, n’ my friends in Rosehill. Was jus’ trying t’ have a good time.”

“I can see that”, Stephen replied as he finished cleaning the blood off the boy’s face, something loosening in his chest despite himself. Harley was right; his entire life had been torn up by the roots since his mom’s death, having to leave his little sister with his aunt in Tennessee, and his school year ending meant he was now hundreds of miles from any friends he had at MIT. Stephen and Tony had barely had to lift a finger in helping him move from his dorm to the guest room in the cabin, as three other guys about Harley’s age had been more than willing to help him carry boxes and bags through the gateway Stephen had opened for the purpose. Harley was obviously very close with these friends who helped him move, especially the fairly good-looking East Indian boy who he had given a long hug to before stepping through the gateway. Despite the fairly macho facade Harley normally tried to maintain, Stephen had noticed a glint of longing in his eyes that made the sorcerer’s heart ache as the twenty-one-year-old watched the gateway snap shut. If his constant sulking had anything to do with how lonely he was, then Stephen could understand the desire to let loose on a Friday night. Harley had been making desperate attempts to try to connect with some new people despite how much he was obviously missing his old friends, though some unfortunate pickpockets had clearly had different plans. 

“Bastards took the phone Tony gave me”, Harley commented in a moment of surprising clarity, his clouded blue eyes meeting Stephen’s almost guiltily. Stephen ignored the tight feeling in his chest as he set the bowl and cloth on the coffee table, opening a quick gateway to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. 

“Don’t worry about that, he’ll give you another. And he won’t be mad”, Stephen added, almost as an afterthought as he realized that Harley was more concerned about what Tony thought of him than the actual loss of the phone. He looked at those unfocused, wide blue eyes and past the now absent cocky facade, he saw a little boy who was scared of getting yelled at because he’d lost an expensive phone. Harley seemed to accept his answer as a comfort, head lolling as he glanced at the rest of the sofa like he might be considering lying down on it. 

Knowing it would be easier to keep an eye on him out in the living room, Stephen took two pills out of the aspirin bottle and handed them to Harley to put in his mouth before he helped him take a drink of water, holding the glass in his own unsteady hands while Harley did his best to tilt his head back without spilling water all over himself. Stephen then helped him pull his jean jacket off before letting Harley lay on the sofa, hoisting the boy’s legs up onto the cushions and prying his shoes off. Harley mumbled something unintelligible as Stephen dragged the fleece blanket off the back of the sofa, spreading it over him while the twenty-one-year-old hugged one of the throw pillows, wedging his face into it in something near contentment. Levi finally got their wish as they settled on top of Harley and ruffled his hair gently, clearly desperate for someone to take care of, fraught with anxiety as neither Tony or Peter were at home. 

“Anything else you think you need, princess?”, Stephen asked as he straightened up, his voice soft despite his slightly condescending tone, neither of which the plastered kid on the couch seemed to notice.

“You’d make a good mom”, Harley told him in a sleepy mumble, eyes closed as he ignored his question completely. 

“Pardon?”, Stephen snorted with a soft chuckle in amusement. The kid was drunk, but he hadn’t thought he was _that_ drunk, wondering if he should also grab a metal bowl from the kitchen in case the alcohol decided to leave Harley’s system the fast way. 

“You’d be a good mom to some’ne”, Harley repeated. “Yer nice n’ good at takin’ care of people.”

“Doctors do that too, you know”, Stephen rumbled gently and his chest warmed traitorously at the praise, but Harley was already snoring before he could say anything else. The kid lookedalmost innocently peaceful with his face shoved into a pillow, his black eye the only thing obstructing the angelic look his messy golden halo of hair was giving him in the low lamp light. Stephen couldn’t help himself as he bent down a little to brush some of that unruly blond hair off the boy’s face, feeling his almost feverishly hot forehead beneath his trembling fingertips. 

“But I guess you need a mom more than you need a doctor, don’t you?”, Stephen muttered, casting a quick spell to distill the fever and vomit-inducing headache that Harley would have woken up with otherwise. Urging Levi to stay with the boy in case he needed help, Stephen settled into Tony’s armchair with his book though he didn’t plan on reading much, content to keep watch until Tony came home or he fell asleep, whichever came first. 

*****

Donuts had always been the ultimate comfort food for Tony.

Fourteen years ago, when he’d just trashed his house and possibly his friendship with Rhodey, all while dying from palladium poisoning, Tony had ended up at a donut shop. He’d stress-eaten his way through entire boxes of donuts during the whole Sokovia Accord debacle and his and Pepper’s ‘break’ at the time. When Morgan was born, he’d spent the earlier hours of labour (when Pepper needed some space from his constant hovering attention) huddled at a table in the hospital cafeteria with Rhodey, working his way through a plate full of donuts. He’d gotten a lot better with the whole stress-eating thing once Stephen had noticed the habit, giving him methods to avoid resorting to food as comfort, but progress wasn’t always linear. 

So, when Stephen had been called away early Saturday morning to explore a newfound, possibly deadly threat to their own dimension, Tony once again found himself in an old-fashioned diner with a plate of donuts on the table, though he wasn’t alone this time. Harley sat across from him while Peter was wedged against the window in the corner of the booth, staying as far away from the other boy as possible. The main purpose of the outing had been to celebrate Harley getting a job at a mechanic’s garage in Bethel for the summer, but Tony had gotten sidetracked. 

Tony had been driving himself stir-crazy alone at the cabin, seeing as it was a Tuesday and one of Pepper’s custody day, causing him to make the spontaneous decision to drive down to Queens and swing by Midtown School of Science and Tech. It didn’t take much in the way of bribes to convince Peter to ditch class for the rest of the day, seeing as he was stressed to high heaven from final projects and studying for exams, and Tony knew another three hours of listening to adults drone on about stuff Peter already knew would do him more harm than good. Besides, who was going to argue with Tony Stark pulling a kid out of school in the middle of his physics class? 

The two hour drive back Upstate gave Peter the chance to unload a little as the stresses of his last semester of high school had been piling up, and Tony was happy to let him gripe about how stupid group final projects were, or how their calculus teacher hadn’t even given them an outline for the final, even though all the other teachers had. Peter realized he was rambling and apologized several times, but Tony just chuckled and told him he didn’t mind, so Peter had gotten a good deal of anxiety out of his system by the time they pulled up in front of the cabin. It was one o’clock by that time and Tony called Harley from off the hammock by the lake to hop in the back of the Audi, rolling his eyes as the boys insulted each other in greeting. 

A fifteen minute drive down the highway to Bethel’s neighbouring town of Monticello found them at Tilly’s Diner, the gleaming red Audi looking dubiously out of place in front of the old fashioned diner, as the parking lot was littered with mostly classic cars, a two-toned Honda Civic, and a rusted pickup truck that had definitely seen better days. Harley and Tony got into a heated conversation on their way to the front door as they commented on some of the classic cars, leaving Peter looking absolutely baffled by the time they made it into the diner. Tony made his way to one of the back corner booths out of habit, not that there was much paparazzi out in the middle of nowhere as far as Upstate New York went, but he’d rather avoid as much attention as possible. Tony was surprised when the boys both elected to sit on the same side of the table together, but didn’t comment as he told them that lunch was on him and to pick whatever they wanted. Both boys took advantage of the offer of having lunch bought for them, especially the teen with an enhanced immune system. 

After they had finished their meal, Tony insisted on ordering dessert as well, feeling panic settle into his chest the second he finished his burger and, without the distraction of eating, his mind drifted to the uncertainty of whether Stephen was alright or not, with no way of communicating with him between different dimensions. Never one to turn down food, Peter accepted the offer gratefully, though Harley gave him a suspiciously knowing look as Tony ordered a plate of donuts for the table and a slice of cheesecake for himself and Peter. Tony backed up his decision by pointing out that they could get away with eating like this since Stephen was away, responding to Harley’s look with a playful sneer before taking a bite of cheesecake. 

———

“And even MJ’s freaking out about the calculus exam”, Peter told Tony between bites of cheesecake several minutes after they had ordered, continuing his long-winded rant about school from the car. “And she’s like, crazy smart, so everyone else is kind of losing their minds.”

“You sure she’s ‘crazy smart’?”, Harley teased, squinting at Peter as his black eye from Friday night was still swollen almost completely shut. “You sure you just don’t just have a ‘crazy crush’ on her?” Peter promptly turned pink, giving them their answer as his ears and cheeks became a lovely shade of red comparable to that of Harley’s hoodie. 

“Relax, spiderling”, Tony chuckled, giving Harley a quietly scolding look. “I bet my top dollar you’re the smartest kid in that place and you’re going to do just fine. You were acing every single question on the biochem practice exam we did on Friday, anyway.”

“That’s where you were Friday night?”, Harley asked suddenly, meeting Tony’s eyes with an affronted look. “I was getting my ass kicked while baby Petey needed your help with his science homework?” Peter gaped quietly as he turned to look at the other boy, gesturing at him with his cheesecake-laden fork. 

“If that were me in your place. Keener, I wouldn’t have needed Dad or the Doc to save my ass. Not that I would have been dumb enough to get mugged in the first place”, Peter remarked snidely, putting the forkful of cake in his mouth pointedly.

“Don’t make it sound as if I’ve never had to bail your ass out of trouble, Underoos”, Tony warned with a brow raised teasingly, earning a sheepish grin in return. 

“Yeah, _Underoos_”, Harley mocked with a grin that said he was trying to get a rise out of Peter on purpose. “How many times has Daddy had to come be the hero for you?” Peter shifted in his seat to give Harley a practically murderous look, brows knitted as he lifted his fork again.

“Listen here, potato boy.”

Tony chuckled softly as they began to bicker harmlessly, tuning them out a little as his eyes drifted around the diner. Old habits died hard, he supposed, scanning the booths and counter for any suspicious or unusual characters, only comfortable to return to his cheesecake once he was sure everyone within sight looked pretty harmless. By the time Tony had swapped his half-finished cheesecake out for a donut, Peter and Harley had moved onto a good-natured argument about which was more useful, biochemistry or organic chemistry, occasionally asking for Tony’s input as they worked at the plate of donuts. 

It was by his second donut that Tony noticed a nearby conversation that had started to filter into his peripheral hearing, tuning in and out of Peter and Harley’s conversation when his opinion wasn’t needed. Licking the powdered sugar off his fingers, Tony peered around the room and spotted the owners of the conversation, a group of young adults about Harley’s age strewn about one end of the long counter like a pack of hyenas. Eyeing the group of three guys and one girl while picking at his cheesecake again, Tony immediately dubbed them as tourists, uppity spoiled kids no doubt taking a road trip on Daddy’s money. They were the kind of kids he would never want Peter to hang out with, and the exact kind of people he would expect Harley to try and hang out with. 

He wouldn’t have payed them much mind past that, until he glanced away from them and a sliver of their conversation was loud enough to make its way across the diner.

“- can’t believe Iron Man actually got fat, oh my god.”

Tony almost dropped his cheesecake fork with the force of those words, instead setting it down carefully on the plate with his now trembling cybernetic hand, feeling the way those words prickled across his skin and into his bloodstream, sinking down into the pit in his stomach and lodging in a knot in centre of the frankly uncomfortable amount of food he had just eaten. Tony supposed it might be a little shocking to see Iron Man, saviour of the universe, a little heavier than anyone outside of his family had seen him, as the paparazzi had yet to catch him much in the past half year since the only places he went outside of Bethel were Queens for picking Peter and Morgan up, and Wakanda. Besides, he had always thought that his scars and metal arm were far more jarring and enticing for the general public to criticize, but people seemed hesitant to rail on him after the sacrifice he had made. Except for when it came to his weight. Ugly magazine articles highlighting his weight gain, usually featuring completely unflattering pictures of him taken the day after a sleepless night of nightmares, had become more frequent in the past months, most often commenting on how fatherhood had taken it’s toll.

**_Right, because I haven’t been through hell on Earth after snapping that gauntlet_**, Tony had thought sarcastically the first time he’d caught sight of one of those articles, chest clenching in bitter resentment towards the paparazzi and himself. He’d spent his entire life since early childhood learning to ignore the criticism and comments of journalists and juicy gossip magazines, but this particular issue cut deep and stuck in the back of his mind stubbornly despite how hard he tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him. 

Besides eating much healthier, he and Stephen had been working out together diligently in the past nearly three months, and while the sorcerer worked to gain back the muscle he had lost after giving up half of his life force, Tony attempted to lose some of the weight his chronic pain had caused him to acquire. Stephen had insisted Tony didn’t need to go on a diet, he just needed to eat a little cleaner, try a more of a balanced diet, and a little less of it. It took a lot of effort to not let himself fall back into his old patterns of eating junk food, especially on bad mental health days, but with Stephen’s help, Tony had been fairly successful in making sure the only thing he gained was muscle. Because of this, it made it hurt even more to be criticized by an outside eye, by people who didn’t know that he needed a half dozen pain pills just to get out of bed some mornings.

So, the articles and ignorant opinions shouldn’t have bothered him so much, but they still managed to get under his skin sometimes. In fact, it bothered him to the point that he tried in vain to make sure Stephen didn’t happen upon any of those articles, sometimes peering over his shoulder as the sorcerer made his morning check in with the news on his tablet. Luckily, Stephen didn’t tend to focus his reading on material such as popular celebrity magazines. Those articles shouldn’t have affected him so greatly, but they just so happened to pinpoint his own greatest insecurity and they became hard to ignore as they became more frequent. He was used to staring and pointing, especially after his Snap, but this was the first time someone had criticized his weight in person and it made him sick to his stomach.

“Holy shit, he really let himself go, hey? I thought those twitter posts were just a bunch of bullshit”, the guy with dark, slicked-back hair snickered behind his hand, glancing over at Tony with malicious mirth in his eyes. He barely even tried to be subtle about it, as there were barely any people in the diner and he was clearly looking to have a good time. Tony, unfortunately, seemed to be his source of amusement for the moment.

“Yeah, well no wonder”, the girl responded under her breath, glancing up from her phone to make a fleeting moment of eye contact with Tony. “If you were holed away in a mansion somewhere playing daddy to those kids, you’d gain weight too.” Suddenly very aware of his slightly bloated stomach, made even more prominent by his nervous eating of the past four days since Stephen had left, Tony zipped his hoodie back up as subtly as possible, earning a smattering of hushed giggles from the pack of hyenas.

“Want this, Pete?”, Tony asked as he slid the plate of half-finished cheesecake across the table, pulling his shades on as his face burned with shame. Tony would have expected the teen to pick up on the group’s conversation with his advanced hearing, but he was so stressed and immersed in his own mind that Peter didn’t even seem to question Tony’s uncharacteristic refusal of food, expressing his thanks as he finished texting someone on his phone. Harley, on the other hand, met Tony’s face with discerning blue eyes full of suspicious concern.

“What?”, Tony shrugged, glancing out the window as he crossed his arms. “I’m just full”, he explained, cheeks flushing and the pit in his stomach clenching as more hushed insults filtered their way over from the pack of teenagers. Tony tried to remain as casual as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose with his shaking left hand as he leaned on the table. He flinched a little as he heard the dark-haired guy speak again, and Harley followed his gaze over to the small group at the end of the counter.

“Megan, see if you can get a pic for your sister”, the greaser sneered with delight, not even trying to keep his voice down this time. “She’s going to be so disappointed that she can’t crush over Tony Stark anymore.” There was a camera flash and Tony felt like crawling into a hole in the ground, wishing he could at least hide his face in his hands, to become invisible, for Stephen to show up through a gateway and get him out of there.

“I guess he can be added to the pile of fat Avengers with Thor”, the skinny blond guy piped in with a laugh, loud enough that he earned a withering stare from an older couple at a nearby table. Harley whipped back around to look at Tony, stormy blue eyes heartbroken and full of rage as he lifted an eyebrow at him in questioning. Tony just shook his head miserably, looking out the window again as he silently willed Peter to hurry up and finish his cheesecake, averting his gaze from the half-full plate of donuts on the table as if they were the eyes of Medusa. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Harley glancing between him and the group of teens (young adults, really), and before Tony even realized what was happening he heard the scuffling of feet and a loud groan. He and Peter looked up at the same time, shocked to see that Harley wasn’t in the booth anymore, but he was on the other side of the diner, punching the dark-haired guy in the face repeatedly as he held him by the collar of his jacket, like a cobra striking again and again. Harley got six good punches in to the guy’s nose and cheek before anyone could even move, the last hit sending the guy staggering to the ground despite his being a whole head taller than Harley. 

“What the hell, Harley?!”, Tony shouted, in shock more than anything else, adrenaline coursing through his own body as he watched his kid attack someone so brutally. The girl and the blond guy stared at Harley in shock before going to help their groaning friend while Harley walked back to the booth, nursing his bleeding knuckles in his other hand. Tony was still gaping in shock as he noticed the fourth person in the group, who hadn’t said anything thus yet, standing and walking up behind Harley. This fourth guy was large and burly, vaguely reminding Tony of Happy, and a hit to the head from him would have surely resulted in a concussion. Tony realized that last bit in a second of paralyzing fear as he watched the larger guy pull his fist back, preparing to deck Harley in the temple from behind when there was a blur of flannel and Peter delivered a vicious undercut to the burly guy’s chin, knocking him flat on his back. 

The few people who were in the diner stared in shock at the curly-haired, sleep-deprived teen’s surprising show of strength and aggression, and Peter looked nervous as he realized he might have overdone it. 

“Nice one, Parker”, Harley said appreciatively, pulling Peter out of his daze with a nudge on his shoulder. Peter gave him an apprehensive look as he glanced at the guy who was still knocked out cold, his friends not daring to come any closer while Peter was still standing there. Still dazed, it took the owner coming and awkwardly kicking them out for Tony to pull himself up from the booth, letting Harley wrap the rest of their donuts in several napkins before shooing him and Peter out the door, brushing past the semi-fearful stares of the girl and the blond guy. 

“What in hell’s name was that?!”, Tony demanded as soon as the double doors swung shut behind him, herding them out into the parking lot. 

“Did you hear how they were fucking talking about you, Tony?”, Harley asked with a sneer, flexing his right hand as he appraised his grazed knuckles.

“Of course I did”, Tony snapped, cuffing the back of his head softly as they walked back to the Audi, despite the way his heart was swelling at Harley’s protective tone. “But that doesn’t matter, you can’t just go around punching people!”

“The first guy had it coming”, Peter pointed out matter-of-factly. “And the second guy, well, that was just self-defence.”

“Self-defence on my behalf”, Harley agreed with a nod, offering Peter a donut like he was rewarding him for being on his side. “I know you’re all about peace, Tony, but that doesn’t mean I have to sit there and listen to those fuckwads spout their bullshit.”

“Quit swearing”, Tony growled, swatting the back of Harley’s head again with his good hand.

“Quit hitting me”, Harley retorted before his face was plastered with a self-satisfied smirk. “We helped you out in there, old man. You owe us one.”

“I don’t owe you shit”, Tony snorted, leaning back on the hood of the Audi.

“Ooh, and we all wonder why Harley and Morgan swear constantly”, Peter muttered sarcastically under his breath as he sat on the hood beside him, yelping as Tony zapped him with a small electric current from his gauntlet watch. 

“Quiet, you”, Tony said with a teasing look, then turning back to Harley. “If anything, you two owe _me_. I’m a heart patient, remember? I have a condition. You could have put me in the hospital starting rowdy fights like that, and then where would you two be?”

“Well, we’d have more donuts, for one”, Harley muttered as he propped himself up against the hood on Tony’s other side, immediately holding the remaining donuts up as a peace offering, pairing the food with pleading, blue puppy eyes. 

“Nah, I’m good”, Tony waved him off, feeling the pit return in his stomach as the sight of the donuts reminded him of what had started the fight in the first place. “Pass them to Hoover over here”, he said jerking a thumb in Peter’s direction numbly as all those harsh words from in the diner came flooding back, his mind swimming in the misery of the truth they held. Arms crossed, he looked down at the way his thighs were hugged securely in his almost too-small jeans, repulsed by the way his food-packed belly was stretching the front of his hoodie out. God, maybe he’d just never eat again. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so disgusting.

“That stuff doesn’t actually bug you, does it, Dad? What they said in there?”, Peter asked, looking at Tony with devastating realization in his eyes. “You know they’re just a bunch of idiots.”

“Of course it bugs him, dumb ass”, Harley snarked as he leaned back on the hood to look around Tony and give Peter a withering glare. “But those pigs are too ignorant to even realize that they wouldn’t be alive if not for our man here, so their loss, I guess.” Peter’s only response was to silently lean over and hug Tony, wrapping his arms around his chest with his head leaning on Tony’s good shoulder. 

“I’m fine, Pete. Don’t worry”, Tony said, his rasping voice betraying him as he rested his cybernetic hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed gently, trying not to tear up at the teen’s embrace and Harley’s protective words. He could almost forget about what had actually caused the fight in the dinner, marvelling silently at how his boys had jumped to his and each other’s defence. Harley hadn’t even hesitated to attack a guy who was almost half a foot taller than him for Tony, but that wasn’t quite as shocking as Peter’s mild disposition being thrown out the window the second he’d seen Harley in danger. It was jarring to Tony especially in comparison to Harley, as the twenty-one-year-old was always down to scrap with anyone who looked at him funny, while Peter was usually only willing to fight criminals or the occasional alien. Peter had never gotten into a fight for as long as Tony had known him, but he’d kiboshed his perfect record in order to protect his family, as if a silent agreement had passed between them where Harley had said to Peter, _“Alright, I’ll protect Dad, and you protect me, got it?”, _but without words, or even eye contact.

“As your dad”, Tony started, gently squeezing Peter’s shoulder again. “I’m pissed off at you for starting a fight.” Harley scoffed, moving to slide off his spot on the Audi’s hood, but Tony stopped him with a careful hand on his arm. “But as an old, fat guy to two chivalrous young men…thank you.” Peter glared in protest at Tony’s insult to himself, but Harley placed a surprisingly gentle yet fleeting hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Well, you’d do the same for us, I guess”, Harley pointed out, brushing his hair away from his forehead with his uninjured hand. 

“Yeah, you can’t just let family get beat up, right?”, Peter added, his eyes meeting Harley’s for a split second, and Tony had a feeling they weren’t just referring to him anymore. Harley and Peter had gotten somewhat friendlier in the past months, especially since Harley had moved into the cabin, but in that moment it seemed as if some new sort of mutual agreement was reached between Tony’s two pseudo sons. And if it took him getting harassed by a bunch of teenagers in public for these two to put their differences aside and get along, then he could certainly live with that. 

———

The three of them sat on the hood of the Audi for another half hour and about three donuts worth, watching the sun get lower in the sky with the boys still flanking their dad protectively and Tony had an arm around each of them. Tony decided it was time to head out when they noticed the group of teenagers coming out of the diner, the larger of the two guys being supported by two of his friends as they staggered to their overpriced sports car. Harley noticed with satisfaction that the guy he had punched in the face had a quickly-forming black eye not un-similar to Harley’s, glaring at each other through their swollen-over eyes. 

“Get in, you two”, Tony barked suddenly, wanting to avoid any further scuffles, especially in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere. He cuffed the back of Harley’s head a little more softly than usual as he walked around to the driver-side door, and the twenty-one-year-old scowled at him playfully as he walked to the passenger door before pausing. 

“You can take shotgun again if you want, Parker”, Harley supplied nonchalantly, watching as the momentary confusion passed over Peter’s face before it was replaced with wary appreciation. 

“Uh, thanks”, Peter said, clearly taken off guard as they climbed in their respective seats. Harley didn’t say anything as he slid into the back seat, catching the suspiciously knowing squint from Tony in the rearview mirror. Harley just stuck his tongue out at him as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway, windows cracked to let the warm afternoon breeze in the car, tossing Harley’s hair around and in his eyes so he had to hold it back with one hand just so he could see. Maybe Tony had a point in his recent constant nagging for Harley to get a haircut. 

“How’s the hand, Rocky?”, Tony asked suddenly, peering over the tops of his shades at Harley again via the rearview mirror. 

“Not too bad. It’ll probably stiffen up by tomorrow”, Harley replied casually, noticing the slightly neglected glance Peter threw at their dad, clearly waiting for the same question despite his advanced healing. Harley supposed Tony was still a little shaken up from the whole thing, and was probably trying to devote his scattered mind to the kid who probably needed his concern a little more at the moment. “You lose an skin on that guy’s face, Peter?

“Nah, I might have accidentally stolen some of his, though”, Peter grinned as he looked back over his shoulder, hiding his surprise at Harley’s amiability almost completely.

“That was pretty good in there, by the way”, Harley admitted, able to avoid Tony’s smug look from the rearview mirror this time. “It wasn’t entirely wimpy of you knocking that guy out like that.”

“Well, it was pretty non jackass-like of you to beat that other guy up for Dad”, Peter admitted with another backwards glance over his shoulder, his eyes dropping to Harley’s bloody hand quickly. 

“Hey, Dad could have handled himself”, Tony piped in with feigned offence. “You two just didn’t give me the chance, alright?” 

“Oh, you would have taught those young whippersnappers a lesson, eh?”, Peter teased in a mocking old man voice, dodging the metallic finger that was aimed to flick him in the forehead. Harley didn’t even hear Tony’s snarky response as he watched Peter hold his hand out, palm up towards Tony who immediately reaching out to squeeze it gently with his cybernetic hand, and then continuing to hold it as they let their hands rest on the centre console. 

Instead of the usual wave of resentment or jealousy that Harley experienced when Tony and Peter’s close relationship was put on display, he felt a sense of camaraderie with the teen after their sort of relay fight in the diner. His first impression of Peter had been that he was Tony’s precious, perfect, wimp of a straight-A replacement for Harley, the new and improved mark two, if you would. But he’d had a change of heart lately, especially after the past month spent at the cabin, hearing the terrorized screams and sobbing coming from Peter’s room most nights he was over, quickly joined by the sound of Tony’s concerned but comforting voice, or the sorcerer’s soothing rumble as they tried tried to draw Peter out of his nightmares. 

He’d seen the result the next morning, Peter’s haunted, glassy eyes still red from crying so hard, and the heavy bags beneath them. It was through this close proximity that he had realized that maybe Peter wasn’t as perfect as he seemed, and Tony only treated him so gently because of all the horrific shit that he’d been through. He couldn’t very well feel such strong resentment for the boy who clearly needed Tony as much as Harley did, slowly eased out of his jealousy as Harley realized that Tony wasn’t treating him any differently than he always had just because he had Peter too now. Harley would die before admitting it, but it had been terrifying to think of losing his spot in Tony’s life to someone else, though these thoughts were obliterated as Tony made it clear that he had plenty of room in his big heart for both of them. 

Today had been the last straw when it came to chipping away at the walls of caution Harley had built up to keep Peter out, just in case the teen had turned out to be bad news, as he still had the potential to hurt his relationship with Tony. Despite Peter’s role in two major battles to save the world, Harley had been fairly convinced he was the type of goody two shoes who wouldn't sock a guy in the nose _unless_ the world was ending, and based on Tony’s praise of the teen’s angelic behaviour, Harley hadn’t been too far off. But today seemed to prove that, when push came to shove, Peter would do anything to keep family safe. Harley wondered vaguely what this meant for his and Peter’s relationship considering he was the one Peter had knocked a 250+ pound guy out for. His split-second, no-hesitation decision to protect Harley after Harley had protected Tony showed that he wasn’t just Tony’s precious spider baby: He had a backbone, he had morals, and he could get scrappy when he needed to, something that Harley couldn’t help but respect. After being abandoned by everyone important all his life, save for Tony, loyalty was the one thing Harley held in importance above all else. 

———

The drive back to the cabin gave Peter time to mull over the fight in the diner, his left hand gripped loosely in Tony’s as a silent gesture of comfort and support to one another, the knuckles of his right hand pressed against his thigh as they began to ache steadily. 

It had taken a while to sink in, but the second he’d seen Harley get up from that booth in the diner and wale into a guy without a second thought for his own safety, only revenge for Tony on his mind, Peter had realized that maybe there was maybe a little more to the scruffy kid from Tennessee than met the eye. Of course, Peter had seen flickers of Harley’s goodness beneath his rough, wise-cracking exterior several times before: The night in the parking lot outside the movie theatre, practically every time he interacted with Morgan, the silent looks he gave Peter the morning after a particularly bad bout of nightmares. 

But his display of protective rage in the diner had cracked that cocky facade wide open, compelling Peter to instinctively defend him when that lumbering brute had been trailing Harley back to their table. He hadn’t had any deep feelings of companionship towards the older boy, but his connection to Tony alone was enough for Peter to consider him family. And for Peter, family was everything. Without family, you didn’t have anything, and Peter had lost enough of it to hold close and dear the people he did have. More than anything, seeing Harley defend Tony so ferociously made it clear to Peter that, despite all of his nonchalant rudeness, Harley really loved and cared about Tony, he just tended to show it differently than Peter was used to thinking was acceptable. His apparent disrespect for Tony had been Peter’s main issue with Harley, but now that that was out of the way, he could see them potentially getting along. As long as Harley stopped being a jack ass to the Doc too.

———

Tony made sure to give them another half-hearted scolding once they got back to the cabin, but he couldn’t have been too mad at them considering he grilled two enormous homemade cheeseburgers for them for dinner. 

*****

As luck would have it, Stephen was able to get home that same Tuesday after dealing with the otherworldly threat in another dimension, although it was fairly late at night. He had staggered through a gateway around 11:30 p.m., exhausted down to his bones, but beyond relieved to be home as he came in the front door as quietly as possible, met in the front hall with a tackling hug from Tony. Stephen had chuckled softly as he hugged Tony back as tightly as his hands would allow, rocking back and forth slightly with his face buried in the engineer’s neck, inhaling his warm, familiar scent. Their life force seemed to sigh in relief, and Levi might have as well as they wrapped around the two men.

“You didn’t miss me, did you?”, Stephen teased in a low rasp, meeting the dark fire in Tony’s eyes as the shorter man pulled back a bit, smacking Stephen’s upper arm with his good hand.

“I was worried about you, asshole”, Tony snapped back, but without venom as he held on to the sorcerer’s forearm like he was making sure he was still solid and real. “You forgot to tell me if it was one of those dimensions where the time is different, so I’m left here wondering if four days has been two months for you. And what if you and all the other wizards got hurt or killed? How the hell would I have known? Who would have told me? It’s not like there’s some sort of inter-dimensional space phone. Or is there? Anyway, you should have told me, Strange, okay? I’ve been a wreck and next time you-.” Tony’s anxious rambling was cut off as Stephen leaned down to press a gentle kiss against his lips, pulled him closer by his arm as he deepened the kiss. Tony relaxed into his touch, pushing up into the kiss with an open, wanting mouth, the worry dissipating from his body like water vapour off of a hot blacktop. 

“I missed you too, douchebag”, Stephen muttered softly as they pulled apart slightly, looking into Tony’s now heavy-lidded eyes. “And I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to tell you about any time anomalies when I go to different dimensions from now on. Sorcerer’s honour.” He chuckled affectionately as Tony pushed away weakly from the sorcerer’s attempts to give him a cheek kiss, Levi playing a large part in keeping Tony in his grip.

“Your honour, my ass”, Tony muttered darkly, though he finally succumbed to Stephen’s attempts to plant his lips on his cheek.

On their way upstairs, Stephen offered a quick explanation as to how the supposedly hostile threat had been a false alarm, though he and the other masters had remained in the dimension for another four days after picking up activity of illegal trade which might have been a sign of collection of dangerous substances, possibly in preparation for an attack of some sort. After ensuring that the suspicious activity had just been regular, old illegal activity, the sorcerers had been able to apprehend the offenders and make their way back to their own dimension. The entire mission had taken four days, with little time for sleep in between distilling skirmishes between black market dealers in low places, hours of being staked out on site to catch a deal in the act, only interrupted by the battles that broke out once the dealers realized they had been ambushed. A majority of the dealers were alien species with magical abilities of their own, even rivalling Stephen’s powers in some cases (especially now that his magic had been weakened slightly from the loss of his life force), which meant even short battles were much more draining than he was used to in his own dimension. Stephen wouldn’t have usually been required to stay on such a mission with menial things such as stake outs, but the power of the illegal substances (names Stephen didn’t even try to pronounce unless he wanted to give himself a migraine) when amassed was enough of a threat that it became a Sorcerer Supreme level concern almost immediately.

So, beyond exhausted from working four days straight, Stephen filled his worried partner in before promising that he would come to bed just as soon as he took a shower. The hot water hit his body like a godsend as he leaned his head back in the spray of the shower head and hummed in contentment. He and the other masters had used specialized medical spells to clean themselves of any foreign substances or pathogens before and after re-entering their own dimension, but there was nothing as comforting to the base parts of the mind than to be cleaned by good, old-fashioned water and soap. Stephen made sure to scrub himself thoroughly as he discovered small cuts and bruises on his body from the various battles, healing them quickly with a spell before washing his hair twice, even finding need to clean the sweat and grime from his arc reactor pendant. 

Stepping out of the shower, Stephen dried himself off and held the towel around his waist to walk to his side of their large closet, noticing that Tony wasn’t in the room anymore. Figuring that he had gone downstairs to get a glass of water or check if Harley had gone to bed (Taj slept in his room on occasion), Stephen pulled on a pair of boxers before collapsing on his back onto the bed, exhaling an enormous sigh of relief as he relaxed into the comforter. Eyes closed as he grounded himself in the reality that he was home and safe, Stephen didn’t move when he heard the creak of the bedroom door close quietly, Tony’s silence indicating that he likely thought that the sorcerer was asleep already. Content and relaxed, he listened to Tony walk into the bathroom to brush his teeth, coming back out to pad about the room as he prepared for bed. Opening his eyes, Stephen propped himself up as he leaned back on his elbows, about to speak until he saw what Tony was doing.

Stephen’s heart dropped like a rock into a pit in his stomach as he watched his partner standing sideways as he regarded his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. Tony had his t shirt lifted so the bunched-up fabric rested just below his chest, right above the beginning of the swell of his exposed stomach, frowning heavily while he appraised his own appearance. Stephen watched with heart-broken sympathy as Tony shifted his stance in various ways, making a different face of disapproval for each way his posture affected how prominent his slight belly was. Tony pulled his t shirt back down, pulling it taught from the back so the fabric stretched across the rounded expanse of his abdomen, sucking in his gut with a determined frown before letting the breath back out with a devastatingly shaky sigh. Stephen watched with an increasingly heavy heart as Tony rested his cybernetic hand on the swell of his stomach, tilting his head back to sigh exhaustedly up at the ceiling. 

“What the hell have you been doing?”, Tony asked of himself in a frustrated whisper, eyes closed as his shoulders sagged. Stephen couldn’t bear to watch him beat himself up anymore as he sat up on the bed.

“Tony?”, he asked as softly as possible, but the engineer still jumped, whirling around to face thebed with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, Stephanie, you scared the crap out of me”, Tony gasped in a whisper-yell with an accusing frown despite the way his cheeks were flushed, very aware that Stephen had caught him posing in front of the mirror. “I thought you were asleep.”

“What were you doing, darlin’?”, Stephen asked gently, head tilted a little in empathy as he bypassed Tony’s attempt at distracting him. “What’s got you all bothered about that again?” Tony looked almost ashamed as he refused to meet Stephen’s eyes, catching the sight of his reflection in the mirror and quickly deciding that Stephen’s concerned, perceptive gaze was preferable. 

“It’s nothing”, Tony assured hollowly, tugging at the bottom of his shirt self consciously, relenting at the pressing look the sorcerer gave him. “Okay, I was out with the boys for lunch today, and there was just some of the usual, you know, ‘Ooh, Iron Man’s tubby now”, Tony explained, hands held up mockingly for dramatic flair. “And I guess it kind of got to me, but I’ll…I’ll get over it.”

“What do you mean ‘the usual’?”, Stephen asked, brow furrowed in confused concern as his heart broke even further if possible, an uncomfortable knot wedged in the centre of his stomach. “This has happened before?” 

“Well, not in person before, not like this”, Tony said, as if that made it alright. “It’s usually just been in the press before, you know, just trashy gossip magazines and shit.” Tony’s eyes dropped to his feet as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants, looking like he wanted to curl up in a hole and disappear. Stephen scooted forward on the bed until he could swing his legs over the end of it, leaning forward a little as he tried to catch Tony’s eye.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, Stephen asked carefully, brows pinched in sympathy as guilt joined the ashamed expression on Tony’s face.

“Well, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it, Steph. Not that it should bother me anyway”, Tony said with a shrug, trying to inflect a casual tone into his voice past the wavering emotion that was stuck in his throat, face broken and eyes a little duller than they should have been. “Besides, it was just a bunch of teenagers messing around. Certainly no one’s opinion that I should be worrying about.” His words were convincing, but Stephen met his eyes steadily and he could see the deep hurt burning beneath the surface of Tony’s good eye.

“I still wish that you had told me”, Stephen said as he stood and went to stand in front of Tony, placing his shaking hands gently on his shoulders. “Or I wish that you had wanted to tell me. I could have helped you…with all of it.”

“I know”, Tony admitted glumly. “I just didn’t think I should be making a big deal out of it in the first place, you know? You have enough shit to deal with at work, you don’t need me bitching to you about a couple of kids picking on my gut.”

“By all means, bitch to me”, Stephen told him with conviction, looking into Tony’s gorgeous mismatched eyes. “You’re my life, we’re partners, it’s my job to be here if you need someone to bitch to.” Tony attempted a small smile with a nod, but Stephen could see that he still hadn’t gotten through Tony’s several layers of pride and self-hatred. He could remind Tony that he had been doing his best to be as healthy as possible despite the chronic pain from his Snap, exercising and eating well, that he was regaining his fitness level and didn’t need to worry so much about a few extra pounds, but that wasn’t what Tony needed right now. He needed to know he was loved, and not despite his body, but because of it, among so many other things. Tony looked up at him in confusion as Stephen kept his hands on his shoulder and walked him backwards towards the bed.

“Steph, what are you-?” A rush of air escaping Tony’s lungs interrupted him as Stephen gently pushed him so he flopped back on the bed, huffing with a hint of surprised laughter as his back hit the mattress. “Stephen, come on. What are you doing?” The sorcerer didn’t respond as he crawled on the bed after him, leaning over Tony while he straddled his legs while looking down in his eyes with a gentle, open smile.

“Helping”, Stephen explained as he dipped down to meet Tony’s lips softly, feeling him start a little before kissing back tentatively. Feeling like that wouldn’t be the way to get through to him, Stephen switched tactics, lips ghosting down Tony’s jaw to his neck while he let a gentle hand rest on his chest.

“Steph”, Tony grunted in confusion as he tried to softly push him away, blushing in embarrassment and it broke Stephen’s heart to see him despise his own body so much that he didn’t believe it deserved a gentle, loving touch. “Come on, you’re exhausted and I’m not…” Tony’s words dissolved in his mouth as Stephen looked up to meet them again, looking in his eyes earnestly as his hand drifted down his chest.

“I know. That’s not what I’m doing”, Stephen muttered softly, leaning down again to brush their lips together before he dipped lower and pressed kisses across Tony’s chest even through the fabric of his t shirt, gentle, scarred hands caressing his sides softly as he moved lower.

“Stephen”, Tony whimpered under his breath, and the sorcerer could feel the silent sob that worked it’s way through his body at the open, loving attention. He hadn’t said ‘stop’ or ‘no’ yet, which they had agreed on as their obvious safe words for triggers with each other, even out of the bedroom, so Stephen kept going. He peppered tender kisses all over his chest before moving to Tony’s belly, pressing his nose gently against the plush flesh while his hands roamed across his abdomen in slow, soothing circles.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, Stephen mumbled gently, pressing kisses to Tony’s stomach between each utterance of the phrase, feeling Tony begin to relax under him. The engineer was practically melting under the attention, cheeks blushing softly as he turned his head to the side, embarrassed and overwhelmed by the positive attention to his biggest insecurity, but kept his hands on anchored on Stephen’s broad shoulders, humming softly in contentment with each kiss. Stephen worked his way down to his lower belly until he got to the hem of his shirt, sliding it up slightly with his hands as he massaged the soft swell of his midsection, feeling Tony tense up a little.

“Steph, why are you-?”

“Because you’re beautiful”, Stephen interjected with gentle conviction, pressing sweet kisses to the exposed strip of Tony’s soft under belly, eliciting a giggle from the engineer as his goatee tickled his bare skin. “You’re so beautiful”, Stephen repeated with his own soft chuckle, his heart warming at the sound of Tony’s laugh. “So handsome and perfect and amazing.” He pressed a kiss between each word of praise, hands gliding down from Tony’s sides, across his waist and to his thighs with slow deliberation as he showed his appreciation for his partner’s body. 

“Okay, you big charmer”, Tony laughed, his cheeks flushed as he looked down at the sorcerer lovingly, his good hand gently carding through his silver-streaked dark hair.

“No, I’m not done”, Stephen purred teasingly, kneading his belly slowly with caring, shaking fingers. “You’re so beautiful, and I love every part of you, including your belly. It’s gorgeous, you’re gorgeous. Please believe me”, he practically pleaded, kissing Tony’s bare stomach again and causing him to erupt into a fit of giggles in response, which was probably a good thing considering he might have started tearing up at Stephen’s loving, sincere words.

“Steph, stop. Please”, Tony giggled softly, his hand still threaded in the sorcerer’s hair, fingers drifting down to rest on his cheek when Stephen pulled back up so their faces were inches apart.

“Do you actually want me to stop?”, Stephen asked with a joyful smile, relieved to see the bright, sparkling light back in Tony’s eyes.

“No”, Tony admitted with a chuckle as he caressed Stephen’s cheek slowly. “But you’re tired, and I’m…I’m better now. Thank you, baby.” He leaned up to brush their lips together, drawing Stephen down into his mouth with a soft moan. Stephen relaxed in the kiss, feeling his own concern slowly dissolve, exhaustion rushing up again to take over his entire body as Tony pulled him up further on the bed and they settled under the covers together. Stephen kept an arm slung across Tony’s stomach as the engineer hugged him to his chest, relaxing into his embrace and practically purring at Tony’s soft kisses to his temple. Despite already being half asleep, Stephen glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and noticed that it was 12:23 a.m. on May 29th, poking Tony’s belly gently.

“Hey, it’s your birthday, mister”, he muttered against Tony’s chest. “But you’ll have to wait till tomorrow for my present to you. Unless you want to count me coming home as a present”, he teased, earning another stubble-prickled kiss on his forehead as Tony chuckled.

“I think I might. Happy birthday to me, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It means the world to me when people leave comments with their favourite part(s) of the chapter, or just a comment about the fic in general. Suggestions for what you might like to see in future chapters are also welcome. Love you guys 14,000,606 for sticking with this fic (and, yes, I definitely want Stephen’s tattoo now lmao)
> 
> Me: I will mention Taj comforting Tony from his nightmares in passing  
Also me: *writes four paragraphs about the goddamned dog*
> 
> Taj is based heavily off my rescue dog, Joey, who was definitely trained as a service dog in his past home, because everything Taj does is stuff he has done. He’s a treasure and I don’t know how we got so lucky as to find him before the shelter had to put him down.
> 
> Parallel of Stephen defending Tony against Steve in the last chapter, and of Tony doing the same for Stephen against Pepper in this chapter.
> 
> Pepper certainly isn’t my favourite character, but it’s still going to be really interesting to explore her relationship with Stephen as time goes on, not to mention her relationship with Tony as ex husband and wife.
> 
> When Pepper is trying to get Morgan to leave the cabin and Morgan says, “I want to stay with Dad”, I just want to point out that she hugs Stephen as she says it. Besides, she always calls Tony ‘Daddy’. And she’s been hearing Peter call Stephen Doctor Dad for the past month or so.
> 
> Before anyone gets mad at Harley for being an asshole in that scene with Stephen, allow me to remind you that he just got beaten up and is absolutely drunk off his tits.
> 
> So Stephen gets adopted by both Morgan and Harley in this chapter…
> 
> The diner scene is a HUGE turning point in Harley and Peter’s relationship. And I am so fucking soft for these two starting to get along omg


	23. May 29th, 2024

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has always hated celebrating his birthday, but Stephen is determined to make this year different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was supposed to actually be written and posted in time for Tony’s birthday last Friday, but when do things ever go to plan for me? I’ll tell you when: Never. Also, did I write an entire chapter about Tony’s birthday? You bet your ass I did.
> 
> This is literally all just nonsense fluff and a bit of angst, okay? Again, an incredibly self-indulgent chapter with these two just enjoying life with their family.
> 
> They’ve been together for three months as of Tony’s 54th birthday. Their first kiss was in ‘late February’ on a Friday because then Stephen spent the weekend at the cabin with Tony, Peter, and Morgan. So, if we go to February 2024…the Friday that works is the 23rd. So, their anniversary for their first kiss/first getting together is FEBRUARY 23, 2024. And this is chapter 23…ooooh… (jk idk what that means)   
And just in case ya'll haven't noticed, 3 is a very important recurring number in this fic, though it basically just ties back to "I love you 3000".
> 
> I love Supreme Iron fam so freaking much, including the Parkers obviously <3
> 
> Their outfits after they get back from paddle boarding, because sometimes I care about fashion: Stephen is wearing a big burgundy heather cardigan with a soft grey button down underneath and olive green joggers. Tony is wearing dark wash jeans and a soft grey long sleeve (Henley) shirt and a navy blue cotton sweatshirt with a zipper on the neck.
> 
> (CHAPTER SPOILERS IN END NOTES)

Even before opening his eyes, Stephen knew today was going to be a bad hand day.

The pain coursing through his fingers woke him up earlier than he would have liked on one of his planned days off, gently pressing his forehead against Tony’s upper back as he groaned. It was Tony’s birthday, the day after he had just been harassed and body-shamed in a diner no less, and Stephen had been planning on making today extra special for him. But this task would be made infinitely more difficult if the damaged nerves in his hands were deciding to act up. 

Stephen sighed as he lifted his head to look out the east-facing window in their bedroom which usually had sunlight pouring through it at this time of the morning, only to see that the sky was overcast. It was to be expected as, out of the many things that caused Stephen’s hand pain to be worse than usual, the onset of storms and changes in barometric pressure were one of them.Tony often joked that there was no need to consult a weather app or the news when you could just ask Stephen how his hands were feeling on any given day. 

While they often managed to make light of their own disabilities, Stephen couldn’t help but feel discouraged as a majority of his plans for preparing for Tony’s birthday required full use of his hands. Sighing to himself, Stephen gingerly slid his hand around Tony’s side and up to his chest as he hugged him from behind. It might have just been his imagination or wishful thinking, but pressing his hands against Tony’s chest, right above his arc reactor scar where they always landed anyway, seemed to dull some of the pain in his hands. He struggled to come up with a logical explanation for this, reasoning that maybe it had to do with proximity to Tony’s half of the life force, but that still didn’t make much sense when it came to his hands. Regardless, he was grateful for Tony’s warmth soothing his trembling, aching fingers, a pain that went down to the very centre of his bones as he pressed himself against his partner’s back.

“I seem to have a wizard attached to my back. Is there any cure, Doc?”, Tony muttered sleepily, resting his cybernetic hand on Stephen’s shaking hand pressed to his chest. Stephen flinched inwardly at the contact as searing pain coursed up his fingers and into his wrist, never one to complain, and not wanting to make Tony feel guilty as he kissed the scarred side of his neck softly.

“Chronic condition, I’m afraid”, Stephen mumbled softly in all seriousness, scared to move his hands as he pressed his lips against the warmth of Tony’s bare skin. “Symptoms can only be remediated by a lifelong treatment of daily kisses.”

“How tragic”, Tony whispered jokingly as he turned his head to meet the sorcerer’s mouth in a kiss, brushing their lips together gently. “I suppose I’m resigned to my fate.”

“Sorry for waking you, sweetheart”, Stephen whispered back as he looked down into those big, Bambi-lashed eyes, focusing on Tony’s good eye with a guilty grimace. “I was just trying to steal some of your heat.”

“No, it’s fine. I like it when you’re all cuddly, it makes up for when I’m being a clingy bastard”, Tony murmured back, his voice still raspy with sleep as his good hand grazed over Stephen’s forearm absently. “And Morgan will probably be in here in the next twenty minutes anyway.” Stephen chuckled softly as he thought of Morgan’s usually early morning wake up calls that he had actually come to miss over the past four days of being away. Tony had picked her up from Queens late on Tuesday, and Stephen had been too late getting back last night to see her before her bedtime, as he also hadn’t trusted his sleep-deprived mind to drop by her room to give her a kiss without waking her up.

“I missed her”, Stephen said softly as he kissed Tony’s neck again. “And I missed you. I hate being so far away from you guys.” Tony rolled over fully to meet Stephen’s eyes with a touched smile, reaching out with his good hand to brush the sorcerer’s hair back from his forehead.

“We missed you too. But at least we have today together, as long as Wong doesn’t call your magical ass away again.”

“He’ll try his best not to”, Stephen chuckled, leaning into his touch with his eyes closed in bliss, before pressing a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Oh, yeah, happy birthday again, old man.”

“Shut up. You’re worse than Peter”, Tony snarled sleepily, pretending to smack Stephen upside the head before pulling him down into a slow, lazy kiss that warmed Stephen down to his very soul. He had almost forgotten about the brittle pain in his hands until Tony pulled back a bit, looking up into the sorcerer’s clear green eyes with a quizzical look. “Do I smell pancakes?” Stephen glanced at the clock, deciding it was late enough for Harley to have gotten up to start on Tony’s birthday breakfast.

“Mmm, possibly?”, Stephen teased, watching as Tony’s eyes warmed with gratitude. “One of the many things you’re going to be getting today.”

“You’re the best, you know that? Have I told you that lately? Because you are”, Tony purred, meeting the sorcerer’s lips in a brush of stubble and warm, soft lips as his cybernetic hand cupped his jaw gently. “And I don’t dish out that kind of praise lightly, Strange, so you better appreciate it.”

“I do”, Stephen assured with an amused grin as he watched Tony clamber out of bed and stumble groggily to the en suite. Relieved to see that Tony at least wasn’t having a bad day in terms of chronic pain, Stephen laid back in bed with his spasming hands resting on his own chest, focusing on the ceiling above him as he tried to ignore the pain. Levi floated over from their place on the corner of the wardrobe as they must have notched his discomfort, nudging at his forearm softly and Stephen elbowed them away half-heartedly. He didn’t want Tony to notice his pain or distract him from enjoying his birthday, as his weak, pain-ridden hands were still a sensitive point for the ex-neurosurgeon despite everything else they had gone through together. 

As often as he displayed his love and appreciation for Tony, Stephen saw this as his chance to show the engineer that he was here for the long haul, through thick and thin, or whatever the rest of their lives would throw at them. Admittedly, this was likely brought on especially by his insecurity concerning his recent spat with Pepper, though Tony had defended him viciously without a second thought. Despite this, ten months of pining and chasing and hoping and waiting on Tony had taken their toll on Stephen’s self confidence when it came to their relationship, so he would take any chance he was given to prove that he was here to stay.

At a little over three months since their first kiss, this was the longest relationship Stephen had ever been in, even in comparison to his longest ‘on’ period with Christine in their tremulous ‘on-and-off-again’ year of dating one another. Before Tony, the closest he had ever gotten to a romantic ‘I love you’ was the watch from Christine, something he still kept as a platonic memento in the top drawer of his dresser at the Sanctum. Stephen had never expected to settle down, to find someone who could actually deal with his unbearable arrogance and laundry list of personality defects, not when he was a neurosurgeon, and certainly not since he’d taken on his duties as the Sorcerer Supreme, a prestigious yet lonely occupation in all regards. Then Tony came sweeping into his life along with fourteen million possible realities that showed Stephen that he was meant for married life, in some lives at least, with this man above all other people on Earth. 

“Merlin, for god’s sakes, did you use my toothbrush?”

“Why in the Vishanti’s name would I use your toothbrush?”, Stephen asked as he got up from bed, accepting Levi’s help of pulling the comforter back for him before he padded to the bathroom to meet Tony exasperated expression. “Why would I use your toothbrush when I have my own?”

“You were pretty pooched last night, Stephers, I wouldn’t put it past you”, Tony said, aghast as he started to brush his teeth without any further complaint. Stephen followed suit with an affectionate eye roll, though he used a spell to do so, as he wasn’t even going to attempt using his hands normally. However, the slight change to their normal routine didn’t escape Tony’s notice, immediately latching on to the sorcerer’s use a of a spell. As convenient as it was sometimes, Stephen tried to avoid using unnecessary spells while at home as he found he tended to slip into his mind too much when he didn’t have to focus on physically doing a task, something he would rather avoid as much as possible. 

“What’s with the abracadabra stuff, babe? Are your hands giving you issues?”, Tony asked while fixing him with a concerned look. Stephen sighed softly as he rinsed his mouth. So much for being subtle about it.

“Just a little tired. I’m fine using spells sometimes, aren’t I?”, Stephen asked lightly. Tony gave him a look like he wasn’t sure if Stephen should be allowed to make decisions on his own, turning to the cloak hovering by the doorway.

“Lev, grab his pain meds for me, would ya?”, he asked, and Stephen sighed as the relic swooped away towards the nightstand in eager compliance to help their stubborn sorcerer. 

“Tony, I’m okay. I just-.”

“Your hands hurt”, Tony interjected softly as he took the sorcerer’s wrists in his gentle, steady hands, flesh and metal alike. “Don’t try to be a noble idiot and hide it from me, okay? You’re so obvious sometimes, I swear.”

“You know, a lot of people find me hard to read”, Stephen sniffed lightly as Levi brushed past him, passing Tony the bottle of pain killers before the cloak settled on the engineer’s shoulders.

“Not me. You’re an open book, Doc”, Tony muttered softly as he twisted the cap off, making a kissy face at Levi who was patting at his cheeks gratefully. “Also, the clouds kind of gave you away.”

“Touche”, Stephen relented, letting Tony place two pills on his tongue gently and hold a glass of water for him to drink from. With his pride only slightly bruised and still feeling guilty, Stephen thanked him with a quick kiss before going to pull a pair of pyjama pants on, wincing as his hands protested sharply.

“Here, let me”, Tony said easily as he helped him get dressed, his nurturing tendencies overriding Stephen’s pride, pulling the waistband up to the sorcerer’s sharp hips as he dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“You don’t have to, love. I can just use a spell”, Stephen muttered embarrassedly, though his gratitude showed in the flicker of a smile that creased his lips. Tony often helped him dress on days where his hands were especially bad, jumping at the chance to help the overly-competent sorcerer, so Stephen shouldn’t have been quite so flustered by the act, but he still hadn’t quite gotten used to the extra attention. 

“I want to take care of you”, Tony insisted as he looked in his eyes with conviction, hands steady on the sorcerer’s waist as he held him close. “But you’re so freaking competent most of the time, that you barely give me a chance.” 

Stephen had no further complaints after that, letting himself be taken care of as Tony pulled his housecoat on for him, carefully, taking extra care to gently guide his hands through the sleeves. Stephen thanked him silently with another kiss, something indescribably warm in his chest at seeing Tony putter around the bedroom with Levi on his shoulders as he looked for his glasses. Once Tony’s reading glasses had been located, they traipsed down the stairs side by side as usual, walking into the kitchen to find Harley standing over the sizzling stovetop, practically just an oversized black hoodie with his phone in one hand and a spatula flipping pancakes in the other.

“Look at you up before noon!”, Tony crowed, making Harley jump a little as he turned to look at them blearily. “It must be a Christmas miracle.” Despite his teasing, Stephen could see how touched Tony was by the twenty-one-year-old cooking them all breakfast, walking over to pull Harley into a crushing hug.

“It’s May, you dumbass”, Harley muttered affectionately, squirming much less than usual at the prospect of physical affection, voice muffled against Tony’s sweatshirt as his arms were pinned to his sides by the engineer’s exuberant embrace. 

“Oh, yeesh, someone’s picky. That’s particulars, kid. I just didn’t know you cared so much about my birthday”, Tony chuckled, pressing several prickly kisses against the boy’s cheek before releasing him. 

“I don’t”, Harley said, making a show of wiping his cheek off, though Stephen caught the pleased grin he tried to hide behind his hood, and he was pretty sure Tony did as well. “Your wizard roped me into this by offering me a free portal to my next night out. I’m just saving on gas money, old man.”

“Gateway”, Stephen corrected. “And you weren’t supposed to tell him that”, he pointed out dryly as Levi smacked the boy lightly on the back of the head. The sorcerer’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the ugly purple bruising on their eldest’s right hand, his knuckles looking like Morgan had gotten at them with her favourite marker. “What in Oshtur’s name happened to your hand? Did you get into another fight?”

“Not a fight per se”, Tony started cautiously, avoiding eye contact with the sorcerer. “He was just protecting someone.” He paused. “That someone being me.”

“At the diner, you mean?”, Stephen asked incredulously as his brows shot upwards. “For god’s sake, Anthony, I’m gone for four days and he gets into another fight?”

“Heh, you got ‘Anthony’d”, Harley snickered under his breath as he pointed at Tony, fending Tony’s forehead flick off with the spatula.

“They were just sticking up for their old man”, Tony shrugged casually as he side-stepped around Harley to the coffee maker, nudging the kid with his hip teasingly as he passed behind him. “Don’t worry, I already yelled at them for getting into unnecessary scraps.”

“Them?”, Stephen asked levelly, raising one brow this time in disbelief. “You’re saying Peter got into it too? Okay, never mind. I’m glad they were there to defend you, but-.” He looked to Harley. “Can I at least heal that for you?”

“Cool your jets, Doctor Mom”, Harley scoffed with an amused smirk. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” 

Stephen blinked in bewilderment, glancing at Tony to see his reaction in case he hadn’t heard Harley correctly, but the engineer looked equally baffled, though slightly more amused as he poured himself a mug of coffee. Apparently, Harley had remembered at least some parts of their conversation from Friday night after he had been mugged, though the kid turned back to the stove as if there were nothing unusual about his new title for the sorcerer. With a mischievous grin plastered on his face, Tony looked like he was about to question Harley, but Stephen shook his head quietly with a pleading look, a protective warmth spreading in his chest at Harley’s rare show of affection towards him especially.

“Okay, Mom, why don’t you go grab the munchkin so she doesn’t miss out on pancakes?”, Tony suggested to the sorcerer, glancing at Harley and looking slightly disappointed that he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of the kid. Stephen just rolled his eyes softly as he padded back up the stairs to Morgan’s room, leaving Levi with Tony as the relic had become more relaxed about being apart from the sorcerer in the weeks since his PTSD episode in the bathtub. Opening Morgan’s bedroom door with a spell, Stephen was met by Taj as he stepped in the room, the fluffy plume of the dog’s tail waving in greeting. Standing from his place on the carpet, Taj sniffed the sorcerer, checking that he was safe and well before trotting downstairs to make his morning rounds.

The morning sun was endeavouring to peek through the overcast sky, casting mottled sunshine on Morgan’s comforter, her shock of long, dark hair the only thing visible on her pillow as she huddled under the covers. His hands still aching, Stephen sat on the edge of her bed carefully and conjured a single blue butterfly which flitted softly over to land on her cheek, tickling her dark-lashed eyes into opening with a sleepy giggle. She peered over her shoulder at the sorcerer, blinking the sleep from her eyes in her disorientation, the butterfly still fluttering gently around her with sparkling blue wings.

“Hey, darlin’. I’m home”, Stephen greeted softly with a smile, his hands aching with something other than nerve damage as he wished he could pull her into a hug.

“Dad?”, Morgan asked groggily, her cheek still shoved against her pillow as she seemed reluctant to untangle herself from her warm cocoon.

No, sweetheart”, Stephen corrected gently, thinking she had somehow mistaken him for Tony as she was still half asleep, his voice little more than a whisper as he couldn’t help but reach out to brush her hair from her face softly. “It’s Doc.” But Morgan looked up at him with a confused, somewhat hurt pout, letting him know immediately that she hadn’t mixed him up with her Daddy. 

“You let Petey call you Doctor Dad”, she pointed out in her tiny, sleepy voice, brown eyes big as she looked up at him. “Why not me?”

“Oh”, Stephen said quietly as his heart dropped, realizing his mistake as his chest swam with confused relief, heart thrumming heavily with love. Relieved to realize that he hadn’t been delusional in thinking Morgan had called him ‘Dad’ last week when she had defended him against Pepper, the sorcerer had to take a deep breath to keep emotional tears from springing to his eyes. Despite this assurance, Stephen glanced at the tattoo on his wrist before answering her.

“Of course you can, little star. Of course.” Morgan seemed to forgive him immediately for their momentary misunderstanding, clambering from under her flower-patterned comforter and into the sorcerer’s lap. Stephen accepted her into his embrace gratefully, wrapping his arms around her without using his hands.

“I missed you”, she told him with her cheek pressed against his housecoat sleepily, little arms wrapped around his ribcage as far as she could reach, and something broke and was put back together in Stephen’s chest at her words.

“I missed you too, sweet girl”, he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Sorry I didn’t get to spend the weekend with you. I had to go and do some important work.” Morgan looked up at him immediately at his words, little brow furrowed in heartbreaking concern.

“Work like Daddy’s work?”, she asked, though the hard look in her glistening brown eyes told him that she knew already.

“Almost like Daddy’s work. It’s a little different. But I make sure to be very safe when I work”, he assured her, hugging her a little tighter. Stephen knew well enough about her fears concerning Tony going to work and coming back with half of his body missing, how she had nightmares about Tony leaving and getting hurt, about him leaving and not coming back at all. Stephen knew about this, knew well the nights where Morgan had spent the night with them in their bed because she couldn’t sleep without the sound of her dad’s heart beating beside her ear, or without his strong, warm arms wrapped around her safely. Stephen emphasized with her fear and her nightmares, the thought of how close those fears had been to becoming reality making his stomach turn. He knew how guilty this made Tony feel as he did his best to comfort Morgan and tell her that he wouldn’t ever be going back to work. But Stephen could make no such promise.

“Promise you won’t get hurt?”, Morgan asked, looking up at him with a tiny pout and Tony’s big doe eyes. “Promise you come back from work?” Stephen’s heart broke as he cupped the back of her head with one big, scarred hand, gently stroking her hair. He had told her the five-year-old-friendly version of what his duties as Sorcerer Supreme entailed, and she seemed to know she couldn’t ask the same things of him that she could of Tony.

“I can promise that I will always do my best to come home to you and Daddy, okay?”, Stephen said softly, watching as Morgan nodded quietly, absently playing with the belt loop of his housecoat. “Come on. I came to get you for pancakes, little miss. For Daddy’s birthday breakfast, remember?”

“Yay! Daddy’s birthday!”, Morgan squeaked, her mood changing on a dime in her excitement. She wrapped her arms around Stephen’s neck automatically, and he braced his forearms under her as he stood, her little legs wrapped around his waist as Morgan had become well-accustomed to his inability to pick her up normally with his hands. Carrying her downstairs carefully, Stephen tickled her with his goatee as he gave her silly neck kisses, making her squirm and giggle as she complained about his chin prickles before placing her own sweet kiss on his cheek. 

****

Breakfast with the four of them (Peter was at school since it was a Wednesday) was lazy and comfortable, a breath of fresh air for Stephen after four days away from his family, passing maple syrup and light banter around the table like they always did on these quiet mornings. Morgan ate her breakfast while seated on Tony’s lap, thrilled at the inclusion of chocolate chips in the pancakes as she filled Stephen in on the days he had missed while he was away between mouthfuls. The sorcerer noticed that Tony didn’t eat nearly as much as he normally would, their conversation from last night filtering back into his mind as uncomfortable pity settled in his chest, but he decided against bringing it up again, especially in front of the kids. 

Stephen had been surprised when Harley elected to sit beside him at the table, even commiseration to the sorcerer about Tony finally convincing him to book a hair cutting appointment, to which Stephen offered his immediate support once he had snapped himself out of his daze. Harley was a completely different person to the begrudging, snapping twenty-one-year-old he had left asleep on the couch on Friday night, and Stephen wondered how drastically his conversation with the drunk kid had affected their relationship.

Other than Harley’s uncharacteristic amiability, everything was normal (or as normal as things ever were in their lives) as they cleaned up after they ate, though Stephen had to physically force Tony into a chair to keep him from helping with the dishes. Levi wrapped around his shoulders to keep him in place as an extra precaution, and Tony relented as he checked his phone with a pout, probably teasing Peter about all the fun he was missing out on. As vain and self-centred as Tony acted sometimes, that was all a front that he put on, and he struggled to sit and watch as Harley and Stephen loaded the dishwasher. 

Almost as if in retaliation, there was the usual wrestle at the coffee maker as Tony attempted to sneak a third cup, earning a playful snarl and a kiss from the sorcerer as he finally relented and gave in, seeing as it was Tony’s birthday and all. Harley voiced his distaste at their open display of affection, ditching his post at the sink where he was hand-washing the cast iron pan. This, of course, only led to Tony telling him to grow up before kissing Stephen with even greater fervour than before, which drove Harley out of the kitchen even faster. 

After the kitchen was clean, Tony suggested a paddle board around the lake which Harley and Morgan agreed to, soothing Stephen’s gentle protests as he tried to argue that it would be pointless for him to come along seeing as his hands would be useless for paddling. Tony wasn’t hearing any of it, pulling the ‘birthday boy’ card along with bringing out the puppy dog eyes, insisting that it wouldn’t be as much fun without his wizard. Stephen relented with a gentle sigh, following Tony upstairs to get dressed and letting his partner be a substitute for his aching hands again as Tony helped him pull on a t shirt and a pair of shorts.

After strapping a life jacket on Morgan, the four humans, one dog, and one cloak headed down to the lake, pushing off from the dock on the paddle boards which they tried to take out as often as possible. Stephen had to admit that Harley was fairly skilled in balancing an eighty pound dog on the back of his board and an excitable five-year-old on the front, surging ahead across the calm water as Morgan trailed her hand in the ripples they left in their wake. Stephen felt guilty for sitting cross-legged on the front of the board while Tony paddled, but the engineer just pointed out that it was a chance for him to get a light core and arm workout in, paddling steadily as they followed the edge of the lake out to the point of the small peninsula that nearly spilt the body of water in two. 

Stephen had been incredibly nervous about Morgan’s safety especially when it came to the lake, which was fair considering how his sister had died, though he had yet to tell Tony about this. He was always left with those nagging, haunting memories at the back of his mind when he let himself think about Donna, but he’d become slightly more at ease in the past few months as they’d spent more time as a family and individually out on the water. Besides Tony’s anal attitude when it came to water safety with the kids, which calmed the sorcerer’s nerves considerably, Stephen had enough confidence in his own magical abilities to save someone from drowning if need be that he could actually relax and enjoy their time together, also helped by the cloak who refused to stay home as they hovered diligently behind the boards. 

The clouds had parted slightly, allowing their small group to enjoy the warm, golden sunbeams filtering through the grey to sparkle off the surface of the lake. They glided near silently past the rocky shores and low overhanging branches of the dark pine trees on the jutting peninsula, the quiet splashing of their paddles echoing mutely off the low cliff face on the south side of the lake, Tony whistling softly as they enjoyed the quiet of each other’s company. The movements of the board were steady enough that Stephen felt his breathing steadying to an almost meditative state, smiling softly to himself as Morgan reached out over the side of Harley’s board, fingers dancing along with the spraying droplets and the dragonflies hovering above the surface of the water. 

Pausing for a rest stop, Stephen shifted on the board carefully so he and Tony could sit facing each other, asking for the umpteenth time to make sure his cybernetic arm wasn’t acting up. Tony silenced his fears with a soft kiss, tasting of coffee and morning sunshine as Stephen cupped his scarred cheek with one gentle, trembling hand. 

They had stopped on the outskirts of a small wetland on the edge of the lake, alive with the buzz of late spring, and Stephen watched as Harley lifted a water lily out of the water with his paddle, proffering it to Morgan on the blade of the paddle as she thanked him with a pleased giggle and tucked it behind her own ear. Tony saw his chance for a romantic gesture and immediately leaned out from the board to scoop one of the white flowers out of the water. Stephen saw the inevitable before it even happened, panic swamping his chest as the board tipped and they were dumped in the shocking cool of the shallows of the lake. Sputtering to the surface, the sorcerer’s split-second, heart-clenching fear subsided as Tony surfaced beside him, laughing raucously along with the kids as he held the water lily out to Stephen with an apologetic grin. Stephen couldn’t very well resist that sweet, sunshine smile, swimming forward to let Tony pull him into a warm, giggling kiss as they treaded water together.

“Sorry, Merlin. I thought I had it.”, Tony chuckled under his breath as he gently pushed Stephen’s drenched hair back from this forehead. “You look like a drowned cat.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I have to forgive you, douchebag, since it’s your birthday and everything”, Stephen rumbled softly with a playful smile, righting the board with a spell and holding it steady as Tony clambered back onto it before climbing up himself. He dried them both off with another quick spell, heart thudding in his chest as Tony genuinely offered the flower to him again with a somewhat shy smile.

Stephen ignored Harley’s gentle teasing as he let Tony tuck the water lily behind his ear, insisting the engineer let him do the same as he plucked a yellow water flower off the surface of the lake with a levitation spell. Tony jokingly pointed out that yellow wasn’t his colour, but the sorcerer insisted that it matched his bright, sunshine soul nicely, and Tony couldn’t argue with that, if only because of his own loving bewilderment. Eager to continue the trend, Morgan insisted that Harley take one of the flowers that she had picked so that he would match everyone else. The twenty-one-year-old didn’t have the heart to deny her request as he placed the yellow blossom in his hair. They all made it back to the dock without any further mishaps, though Taj nearly dumped the kids in the lake as he hopped off the board, chasing Levi down the length of the dock as the cloak egged him on. 

“Control your dog, Anthony”, Stephen chided lightly as he sat on the edge of dock and held the paddle board steady for Tony to climb off as well. “I swear, if he gets his teeth in Levi, you are going to get an hour long lecture about how difficult it is to repair them, spells or not.”

“Taj wouldn’t hurt a fly”, Tony said as he clambered onto the dock, watching as the mutt circled back to check on his people. Taj snuffled at Morgan’s cheek with a wagging tail as he took care of some maple syrup left over from breakfast that Tony had missed with a washcloth. “Besides, since when is he my dog?”

“Since always”, Stephen replied, pulling the paddle boards out of the water with Harley. “But especially when’s he’s terrorizing Levi.”

“I think I recall you being the one to convince me it would be a good idea to keep him in the first place”, Tony snarked as he took the paddle board from the sorcerer to avoid him straining his hands, looking him in the eye levelly with a playful grin.

“And I was right, wasn’t I?”, Stephen countered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he met Tony’s challenging gaze, nearly nose to nose as they stared each other down. Even three months into their relationship, three months of spending nearly every day together, Stephen still found his heart racing as he studied the flecks of gold held in Tony’s deep, coffee brown eyes, alight with a vibrant, playful intensity. 

“If you guys are going to bicker like an old married couple constantly…”, Harley drawled, pointedly taking the paddle board from Tony to bring it to the shed. “At least get married first.” The twenty-one-year-old grinned in smug satisfaction as his words achieved his goal of flustering both men, Tony coughing a little as he choked on his embarrassment and leaned down to grab the other board. Stephen was still blushing lightly as Tony brushed by him with a reassuring yet shy smile to follow Harley to the shed, something bright and hopeful alight in the sorcerer’s chest as he watched him go. 

———

After downing one of the glasses of water Stephen offered to everyone, Harley announced that he had to leave for his haircut and Tony warned that he’d be sleeping outside with Gerald if he came back with a mohawk, tossing him the GT-R keys. After Harley tore off down the driveway, all three of them went upstairs to change into guest-appropriate clothing, pulling on sweatshirts and long pants as the day was progressively cooling with the oncoming storm. After helping the sorcerer pull on his own burgundy cardigan (his favourite as it felt similar to wearing Levi) and olive green joggers, Tony got dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and a light grey Henley shirt, both of which Stephen noticed to be fairly form-fitting, especially around his rear and stomach. Whether this was purely by design or on account of Tony’s recent weight gain, Stephen was admittedly slightly disappointed when the engineer pulled a baggy navy blue sweatshirt over the ensemble, making sure to let Tony know how good he looked before kissing him soundly.

Still intent on ensuring Tony didn’t lift a finger on his birthday, Stephen recruited Morgan to bribe her dad into reading a book with her while the sorcerer started on preparing lunch. He watched them from the kitchen window with a content smile as father and daughter snuggled on the hammock together and read while using Levi as a blanket, Morgan resting in the crook of Tony’s good arm as the dappled sunlight danced over them through the willows overhead. 

Using a spell to chop vegetables for a salad, Stephen heard the familiar purr of a Corvette pulling up the driveway along with Taj’s greeting bark, the driver’s door slamming shut before he saw Rhodey making his way across the lawn towards the hammock. Tony called an exuberant greeting to his oldest friend as Morgan jumped into her uncle’s arms from the hammock with an excited squeak, giggling with joy as he spun her around before hugging her tightly. After a quick cheek kiss and waving off a loving insult from Tony, the colonel returned to his car before coming through the front door with a cardboard box in his arms. 

“Hey, Jim. You made it past the greeting committee nearly unscathed?”, Stephen grinned as they met in a one-armed hug, squeezing the shorter man’s shoulders gently before pulling back. Rhodey chuckled as he adjusted his grip on the box carefully.

“Just barely, but I escaped with my life. Speaking of which, it’s good to have you home safe, man. Tony’s been a wreck with you off gallivanting in other dimensions”, Rhodey said, but not unkindly, clapping a gentle hand on the sorcerer’s shoulder.

“That’s why you’re here to pick up the slack when I’m gallivanting”, Stephen winked knowingly, nudging the colonel’s side before pointing to the box. “You got his present here in one piece?” Rhodey snorted as if the question were particularly amusing.

“Took me about half an hour to get it in the box but, yeah, it’s all present and intact.” Rhodey glared at the box as if it were the bane of his existence. “You said to just put it in the guest bathroom for now?”

“Yes, I thought we’d let him open this one after lunch”, Stephen told him, glancing at the colonel’s braces despite himself. “Here, I can bring it up if you want.” Rhodey met his eyes in a knowing way that made Stephen feel embarrassed for thinking the other man was anything but capable of walking up the stairs, but they both knew Stephen’s ability to use his hands was even more precarious, especially with such valuable cargo. They, along with Tony, had become very comfortable acknowledging one another’s disabilities, but never allowed themselves to be limited or defined by them. 

“I’ve got it, Stephen, don’t worry. You keep working on lunch and I’ll give you a hand when I’m done setting it up”, Rhodey told him as he began to make his steady, deliberate way up the staircase.

“Thank you. I really appreciate all your help with this”, Stephen replied with a genuine smile, to which Rhodey just scoffed gently as if it were obvious that he would always help when it came to Tony. Shaking his head in affectionate bemusement, Stephen went back to chopping vegetables, content with the feeling of safety that came with having become so much closer with Tony’s best friend in the past year, the caring, level-headed man who the sorcerer was glad to now call a friend as well.

True to his word, Rhodey came back downstairs several minutes later, grating cheese for the lasagna in the oven as he and Stephen struck up hushed conversation about just how bad Tony’s mental state had been when the sorcerer had been in another dimension. Stephen could see the worry in the tension of the colonel’s shoulders and the stress lines on his brow, recounting how Tony had gone into an anxious, depressive spiral topped off by stress-eating when he hadn’t been able to communicate with Stephen in the past four days, if only to know he was safe.

“I know you guys are extremely dependent on each other with the whole life force thing”, Rhodey started almost tentatively. “And I’m not saying it’s an unhealthy dependence, because I know how good you are for him, but I worry about him when he gets like that.” Gratified by the colonel’s approving words, Stephen nodded in understanding as he made a dressing for the salad.

“Trust me”, Stephen scoffed softly. “I was scolded thoroughly for not communicating a little better about whether there was a time difference, so I’m hoping if I prepare him better for what to expect when I leave, it might help with his anxiety. His life force separation symptoms have never been as bad as mine, which is a relief since there isn’t much we can do about that.” Stephen sighed softly, noticing with annoyance that his hands had started to ache acutely even from just conducting spells. “Its hard, and I feel bad for leaving him, but I can’t help it when I have to travel between dimensions for work.”

“No, believe me, I get you, man”, Rhodey nodded sympathetically. “He used to be a mess when I’d leave for long deployments where we weren’t allowed outside contact. He’s low-key clingy sometimes, usually at the expense of his own sanity, but he’s only like that with people he really loves and needs, so…do with that information what you will.” He and Stephen shared a quiet, knowing grin before the timer for the lasagna went off and Rhodey opened the oven door to take it out.

“I’m actually hoping the gift I’m giving him after lunch will help him when I’m away, especially when Morgan is at Pepper’s”, Stephen admitted, and he watched as an almost bemused, appreciative smile broke over the colonel’s face.

“Hopefully you’re right”, Rhodey muttered as he checked the lasagna, giving the sorcerer a sideways glance. “You know, you’re one of the good ones, Stephen. I don’t tell you this enough, but I’m glad Tony has you.” Rhodey’s approval weighed profoundly in Stephen’s chest, and Rhodey must have known the affect his words would have on the sorcerer as he mercifully averted his eyes while Stephen fought the faint colour rising in his cheeks and the tears prickling at the backs of his eyes. 

He distracted himself by going to the front door to call Tony and Morgan in for lunch. He had been surprised when Tony hadn’t followed Rhodey inside, only to find that he was distracted by harassing Harley out on the front lawn as the kid has just come back from his hair cut appointment. Taj had neglected to warn everyone of the GT-R returning as he recognized the vehicle and driver even from down the driveway, content to snooze under the hammock as Tony took over as chief greeter.

“You do have a forehead!”, Tony teased with a loud guffaw, ruffling the top of the kid’s fresh undercut as Harley did his best to avoid the kiss aimed at his newly exposed forehead. “I barely recognized you without the dead animal on your head.”

“That’s quite the change, Tennesee”, Stephen rumbled in sly agreement as he held the screen door open for them. “And I’m sure your new boss will appreciate the haircut. It looks good.” Harley met his eyes with untrusting wariness and the sorcerer just held his gaze unwaveringly with a raised brow. Harley gave in first, scooping Morgan up in his arms as she had been tugging at the sleeve of his jean jacket, giggling as she patted the shaved sides of his head.

“It’s fuzzy”, Morgan pointed out, squeaking as Harley tickled her gently. “You look pretty, Harley.”

“Hear that? I’m pretty”, Harley tossed over his shoulder at Tony, giving Stephen a pointed look as he passed him in the doorway, head held haughtily with Morgan still in his arms. Tony followed him inside with a playful eye roll, seemingly more at ease to step back and not be involved in preparing their meal now that Rhodey was here to give Stephen a hand as well as Harley. 

Designated to his spot at the kitchen table, Tony immediately took the opportunity to embarrass the twenty-one-year-old in front of Rhodey with a myriad of the worst dad jokes he could muster up, though his best friend was practically impervious to them at this point. Tony’s efforts had their desired effect, though, as Harley groaned for him to shut up as he worked on setting the table on the front porch for them to eat at. Harley stole a handful of grated cheese as Rhodey passed by with the plateful to go outside, earning a slap on the hand from Levi and unfortunately inspiring Tony for another joke.

“Okay, okay, you’ll like this one”, Tony grinned even as Harley was giving him the finger since Morgan was out of view and already at the table on the porch. “What do you call cheese that isn’t yours? Nacho cheese.” Harley just rolled his eyes as he poured drinks for everyone and Stephen grimaced as Tony’s smile brightened, obviously having remembered another joke. After nearly two dozen jokes at this point, Stephen had had enough.

“You’ll appreciate this one, Strange. Why can’t you hear a psychiatrist-?” Tony was cut off as Stephen met him in a crushing kiss, tongue pressed into his mouth as he grabbed the engineer’s ass firmly with both hands to pull him closer. He could feel Tony press against him after the initial shock wore off, could feel him loosening in his hold like putty, warm and pliable, deepening the kiss until Stephen pulled back from him breathlessly. Tony looked up at the sorcerer with wide blinking eyes, blushing heavily and clearly flustered as he held on to Stephen’s forearms to steady himself.

“What was that?”, Tony panted softly with a quizzical look.

“I love you, but that’s enough jokes for right now”, Stephen told him with a patient grin, placing the bowl of salad in Tony’s hands and gently shoving him towards the door. It was difficult to fluster Tony, but it had been getting easier lately as he let his walls come down when it came to their fiery attraction for one another, made even more effective as Stephen was usually rather reserved in his expressions of sexual desire.

“I never thought I’d say this, but thank you for doing that”, Harley said to the sorcerer dryly as he brought the drinks outside, giving Tony another unimpressed look.

“I didn’t realize you had it in you, Merlin”, Tony muttered over his shoulder with a coy grin, not hiding the way his eyes travelled over Stephen’s front fleetingly. The sorcerer’s own knees nearly buckled at the hungry light in his partner’s eyes, feeling the blood rush from his head as he steadied himself against the counter. “Can you do that again?”

“Later”, Stephen promised with a pleased grin, sending Tony out through the front door with a pinch on the ass for good measure, earning the playfully offended yelp he had been hoping for.

*****

After they finished lunch under an ominously dark sky, Stephen sat them all down in the living room with no explanation as to what was going on, as Tony was seated in the middle of the sofa with Morgan beside him. Stephen had disappeared upstairs nearly five minutes ago, and Tony looked to Rhodey for an explanation, but the colonel remained tight-lipped as he just shook his head with a mildly mischievous smile. Figuring it was a birthday surprise of some kind, even though they had agreed to do presents after dinner when the entire family was here, Tony relaxed against the sofa cushions, distracting himself from his anticipation-caused anxiety by tickling Morgan gently as she sprawled on the sofa beside him.

“I need you to close your eyes, Tony”, Stephen finally called down from the top of the stairs, out of sight at the angle Tony was sitting at on the couch.

“You better not come down here naked, Dumbledore”, Tony called back, grinning at the frustrated grumbling this elicited from the sorcerer and the disgusted look from Harley.

“Please close your eyes, Anthony. It’s supposed to be a surprise”, Stephen tried again patiently, still out of view at the top of the stairs. 

“Alright, but I’m expecting something special wrapped in a bow later”, Tony said, closing his eyes with a chuckle as Harley made a noise like he was vomiting. 

“You too, little miss. We don’t want you to give away the surprise”, Rhodey told Morgan gently, who no doubt complied immediately even though Tony couldn’t see her. Uncle Rhodey had a soft spot in her heart and she took his word as gospel, often listening to him better than she did with Tony since she knew her uncle didn’t tolerate any nonsense. Rhodey must have given Harley a look asking him to do the same as the kid grumbled from his place on the beanbag in front of the recliner.

“I really don’t give a shit, Rhodey.”

“Then keep your mouth shut when Stephen comes down”, the colonel replied shortly, but with enough of a hint of warmth in his tone to let Harley know he wasn’t actually frustrated with him. 

“Uncle Rhodey, Harley said a bad word”, Morgan pointed out and Tony could practically feel the twenty-one-year-old’s look of betrayal.

“I heard, pumpkin, but let’s wait for after Daddy’s surprise to kick his butt.”

“You guys are making me nervous”, Tony told them half-jokingly with his eyes still closed, relieved when he heard Stephen padding down the stairs, the sorcerer concentrating enough on whatever he was carrying that he forgot to avoid all three creaky stairs.

“Keep them closed”, Stephen rumbled gently as he got to the bottom of the stairs, and Tony was relieved to feel the two halves of their life force intermixing as the sorcerer approached, the warm ebb and flow of energy enough to quell Tony’s nerves. “Just relax, darlin’. I’m going to put something in your lap and it’s very fragile, so be careful, okay?”, Stephen asked and Tony could hear and feel that he was kneeling right in front of him.

“Oh, I’ve already got a good china set. Sorry, babe”, Tony teased gently until he felt Stephen’s big, gentle hand on his knee, reassuring him. “Okay.”

“Alright, you can open them”, Stephen said in the same instant that Tony felt a slight weight on his lap, opening his eyes to come face to face with a pair of big, yellow eyes attached to the tiniest kitten he had ever seen. Already attempting to climb up Tony’s sweatshirt with tiny claws sticking in the thick cotton, the kitten was dwarfed by Stephen’s large, trembling hands still framing it’s fluffy, little body tentatively. Tony gaped in wordless surprise between Stephen and the kitten, vaguely aware of Rhodey chucking softly at his reaction as Tony’s gaze danced between the sea glass eyes of his partner and the sulphur ones of the young tabby.

“Daddy, it’s a kitten!”, Morgan said in excited awe, beating Tony to speaking as she reached over to pat the kitten’s back with a single, gentle finger. Tony’s heart was still thudding hard in his chest with shock, completely speechless and overjoyed as he let the kitten crawl up his belly to his chest, cupping it with both hands with the utmost care. The little creature seemed to be made of mostly fluff as it sniffed at Tony’s shirt before looking up at his face with a series of high-pitched meows too loud for it’s tiny body. 

“Hey, baby. Hey, little baby. Oh, aren’t you precious?”, Tony wheedled under his breath in adoration, meeting those ridiculously but adorably yellow eyes that were looking into his good and blind eye without fear. Letting the kitten sniff his face attentively, Tony cradled them against his chest and pressed gentle kisses to their head as he teared up, immediately infatuated and overwhelmed by the precious little life that had just been put into his hands and care. Though not nearly comparable, it reminded him of the first time he had held Morgan, realizing that he was being entrusted with her entire life and existence, every breath she took was his responsibility to make sure it was a safe and happy one. 

“You got me a kitten, Steph?”, Tony asked the sorcerer in slight bewilderment, finally finding words as his voice wavered traitorously, looking down at the kitten again as Morgan stroked their head carefully. Stephen smiled softly as he still kneeled in front of Tony, his hands resting on the engineer’s knees as he nodded.

“Well, I know how much you love cats, and I thought she would be good for you so you don’t get lonely when I’m not here, and for when Morgan’s at her mom’s”, Stephen explained softly, reaching out with one shaking finger to pat the kitten’s back. “I know you have Taj, but I think he looks after you more than the other way around. You’re so caring, sweetheart, you do so much better when you have someone to take care of. And she’ll be a good addition to the family”, Stephen added with that adorable, lop-sided smirk of his. “We practically have a zoo here already, what’s one more?”

“Oh, if you mean these two, yeah, we have a zoo”, Tony said as he gestured at Morgan and Harley jokingly (the twenty-one-year-old trying his hardest to look disinterested in the kitten), still with a disbelieving smile on his face before he turned to look at Rhodey. “You were in on this, honey bear?”

“Sure was”, Rhodey said, pretending to be put off even though his satisfaction at Tony’s joy was transparent. “We kept the little couch-scratcher at my house for the past three days after Stephen got her from the shelter.”

“You rescued her, Dad?”, Morgan asked Stephen, turning to look at him as she still patted the kitten, and Tony teared up with overwhelmed joy at hearing her call him that. Stephen noticed his reaction, of course, and gave him a look that was a mix of reassuring joy and wary insecurity.

“Yes, the people at the shelter couldn’t find her momma, so we’re going to be her new family. Does that sound good? You’ll help Daddy take care of her?” Morgan nodded her enthusiastic promise as she pressed a kiss on the kitten’s head with the utmost care. Between the kitten, Morgan’s gentle soul, and her calling Stephen ‘Dad’, Tony wasn’t sure what was making him tear up the most, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he cupped the kitten softly against his chest, leaning forward to meet Stephen in a sweet kiss.

“Thank you, baby”, he whispered against the sorcerer’s soft lips, trying and failing to swallow all the emotion clogged in his throat. “I love her so much, she’s perfect.” Stephen just smiled with a look that told Tony his happiness was all that mattered to the sorcerer, meeting his lips again tenderly.

———

As infatuated as Morgan was with the new kitten, she was still a five-year-old and her attention span was limited to about another half hour of patting the kitten before she dragged Harley and Rhodey to the back den to show off her latest Lego creation. Taj had accepted the kitten immediately after he gave her a thorough sniffing, bumping her softly with his big nose as he inspected her from head to toe before settling on the living room rug in quiet contentment. Levi, in their own way, had come over to inspect the kitten also, though they ignored her completely once they had decided she wasn’t a threat to their position in the family. 

Tony was still on the same spot on the couch, reluctant to move for fear of waking up the tiny kitten who had fallen asleep on his chest right on top of his arc reactor scar, her slight weight surprisingly effective in soothing the semi-constant ache in his artificial sternum. Stephen was settled on the couch beside him, snuggled against his side while Tony rested his cheek on the sorcerer’s shoulder, still watching the kitten as she rose and fell unperturbed with each breath he took.

“What’s her name?”, Tony asked, his voice barely more than a whisper as he turned his head to look in the sorcerer’s eyes.

“She’s yours to name, as long as you don’t name her something dumb like ‘Monday’”, Stephen chuckled softly as he kissed his forehead several times, one arm wrapped around Tony’s midsection just under where the kitten was lying.

“I resent that, Stephen”, FRIDAY said mildly with a sassy edge to her lilt, flickering to life even though she hadn’t been called upon.

“I swear, that was a jab at him, not you”, Stephen assured the AI apologetically as he pointed at Tony, dodging a forehead flick from a metal finger and accepting a soft kiss instead.

“What should your name be, little miss?”, Tony asked the kitten in a whisper, stroking her back with one fingers as she continued to snooze contently, and he felt his own eyelids getting heavy as he leaned his head against Stephen’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll let us know, won’t you?”

———

An impromptu nap followed lunch on Tony’s part, as he’d woken himself up every half hour last night checking if Stephen was actually home, and beside him in bed, or if the sorcerer returning safely had been a dream. So, exhausted from last night and the three sleepless nights when Stephen had been away, Tony fell asleep on the couch nestled against the sorcerer’s shoulder, only relaxed enough to sleep while pressed up against his partner’s body as he was now. 

Tony woke up disorientated an hour or so later, blinking sleepily as he noticed that both sorcerer and kitten had deserted him. A quick glance over to his usual place on the old beanbag chair found Harley with the kitten on his lap, looking at Tony almost sheepishly as the engineer caught him playing with the newest addition to their family. Tony just gave him a quick wink as he heaved himself up from the sofa, giving both his kid and cat a quick pat on the head. He checked his phone quickly before groggily padding into the kitchen to find Rhodey, Stephen, and Morgan working on his birthday cake. Rather, Rhodey and Stephen were working on the cake, as Morgan was thoroughly enjoying taste-testing a bowl of whipped cream while seated at the kitchen table. The sorcerer was halving strawberries at the counter as Tony walked up and hugged him from behind, face pressed against his cardigan-clad back sleepily. 

“Hey, you. Did you have a good nap with your new baby?”, Stephen chuckled softly in amusement, glancing over his shoulder at the engineer who had attached himself to his back, strong arms wrapped around his waist as he seemed to have fallen asleep again.

“Mmmhh, yeah, but she left me for Harley. Maybe we should name her ‘traitor’”, Tony muttered sleepily, pressing a soft kiss to the sorcerer’s shoulder before going to help Morgan with testing the whipped cream. 

“Hey, you two, get your hands out of there, or I’m going to have to make more for the cake”, Rhodey growled gently as he mixed batter for the cake, receiving twin pairs of big, brown eyes looking at him innocently. Tony swiped another finger full before dabbing it on Morgan’s nose, starting a playful war between the two to see who could get more whipped cream on the other’s nose. “I give up”, Rhodey sighed dramatically with an eye roll. “You two don’t ever do what you’re told. How do you get them to listen to you, Stephen?”

“I don’t actually, they do whatever they want. No man or mystical force can contain these gremlins”, the sorcerer chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder to meet Tony’s eyes with a playful wink that brought an unexpected warmth to Tony’s cheeks. _God_, he had missed him. Tony swiped another blot of whipped cream onto Morgan’s nose before he stood and stalked around the table to come up behind Stephen again.

“I can do what I’m told, more than willingly”, Tony muttered quietly beside the sorcerer’s ear, his voice low and husky as he slid his cybernetic hand around the small of his back, slipping a hand under the edge of Stephen’s cardigan to trail silicon fingertips against the bare skin of his side. “I just haven’t let you see me like that yet.”

“Yet?”, Stephen asked quietly, his breathing marginally heavier as he made an effort to avoid eye contact, clearly interested though he maintained a facade of focusing on the bowl of strawberries under his hands. 

“I can show you tonight”, Tony promised under his breath, pressing a slow, sultry kiss to the corner of Stephen’s mouth as he swiped a strawberry from the bowl. Biting into the strawberry while maintaining the eye contact that Stephen finally allowed himself to make, Tony succeeded in flustering the sorcerer this time, even earning a slight blush on those sharp cheekbones. 

Tony would have enjoyed teasing him further, but the sound of the Parker’s car coming down the driveway distracted him as he went out on the porch. Clambering out of the back seat of the car as fast as humanly possible, Peter came charging up the porch steps and into Tony’s arms, accepting his compulsory cheek kisses as Tony relished in the feeling of his boy safe, strong, and warm in his arms.

“It’s been a while, Underoos. You sure you can tear yourself away from your books for the afternoon?”, Tony asked, still hugging the teen against his chest with his chin resting lightly on his shoulder.

“You saw me on Monday, remember?”, Peter asked, poking his side gently even as he kept his arms wrapped around Tony tightly. “Or are you getting too old to remember stuff from two days ago?” Peter yelped as he scrambled out of Tony’s grip before he was subjected to a scolding noogie, the teen grabbing the gift bags from Happy before darting inside to be greeted loudly by Morgan.

“Miss May, you’re looking ravishing as usual!”, Tony called to his boy’s aunt, grinning widely as May climbed the stairs. Her sun dress flapping in the breeze from the oncoming storm as she met his open arms with her own exuberant yet gentle hug.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself, mister. What is it, fifty-four this year? You’d think I’d remember since we’re the same age”, she smiled, pulling back to fuss with his hair gently. “What did you do, just roll out of bed?”

“I took a quick cat nap. Emphasis on the cat part. Blame Stephen”, Tony told her, meeting the suspicious but playful glower Happy was giving him. 

“Get out of here with all that ‘ravishing’ talk. I don’t hit on Stephen, do I?”, Happy grumbled, and Tony raised his hands innocently even as May continued her attempts at softly fixing his hair. 

“Jeez, I’m not hitting on anyone. I’m just paying your girlfriend a compliment, Hap.”

“Oh, we’re not girlfriend and boyfriend”, May corrected gently with a patiently tolerant smile. “He prefers to be referred to as my ‘gentleman caller’. He thinks it’s very _‘Downton Abbey’ _of him”, she clarified, rolling her eyes and leaving Happy embarrassed and disgruntled as they all followed Peter inside. 

Making her rounds, May hugged everyone in greeting except Harley who was still infatuated by the kitten, the polar opposite of Happy who would only give Tony his allotted birthday hug before Morgan had all of his attention. Morgan, however, was very excitedly introducing everyone to the newest member of the family, and Harley had even given the kitten up from her spot on his lap so Peter could hold her.

“What are you gonna name her, Dad?”, Peter asked Tony, giggling softly as the kitten climbed up his shirt and explored the space between his neck and the collar of his flannel. Tony shook his head in bewilderment as he dropped onto the sofa beside Peter, reaching out to pat the kitten carefully, letting her sniff and inspect his cybernetic hand carefully. 

“I don't know yet. Still brainstorming, but you guys can help me out if you have any ideas.” Tony watched in amusement as Peter’s brow immediately crinkled in deep thought, observing the kitten with a scrutinizing gaze as she chewed on his hoodie string.

“Cupcake?”, Morgan suggested, nestled against the teen’s other side as she waved Peter’s hoodie string in front of the kitten’s face. Tony smiled at her suggestion, mouthing a ‘maybe’ so as to not dismiss her suggestion outright.

“What was the name of your first AI?”, Peter asked suddenly, looking in Tony’s eyes with a slightly raised brow.

“JARVIS was”, Tony choked out, not surprised by how quickly emotion clogged in his throat as he thought of the owner of that name, man and artificial intelligence both. Vision’s death had been the final severed connection to the man who had practically raised him, and he tried not to show it in front of FRIDAY, but he severely missed hearing that almost prim, no-nonsense voice in his HUD and workshop. 

“That’s a stupid idea”, Harley said in his usual tactful manner as he looked up from his phone, catching Tony’s reaction to the mere mention of the name in his own roundabout way of caring. “Besides, it’s a guy name and the cat’s a girl.”

“I don’t know, I just thought: First AI and first cat. They kind of go together”, Peter shrugged, glancing at Tony apologetically. Deciding that her efforts to climb inside Peter’s shirt weren’t worth it, the kitten chose that moment to climb across the teen’s arm and onto Tony’s chest, sitting directly on top of his arc reactor scar as she looked up into his eyes and mewed loudly. Tony smiled softly, feeling his heart stir as he reached a single finger out to her and she head-butted it gently, flopping on to her side and swatting at his cybernetic finger.

“It’s not a bad idea, actually”, Tony said in a raspy voice, tickling the kitten’s stomach gently. “Kind of keep his memory alive, huh? Jarvis Jr? JJ? J squared? Do you like that, baby girl?”, he asked the kitten, who was attempting to bite his vibranium finger. “I think she likes it”, he told the kids with a chuckle.

“It’s still a guy’s name”, Harley protested weakly, still pretending to not be interested as he scrolled on his phone.

“Harley is a girl’s name”, Peter responded shortly, and Harley wrinkled his nose at him before returning to hide under his hoodie with his phone. 

“Do you think Stephen would kill me if I made her middle name Stephanie?”, Tony asked Peter, laughing at the teen’s responding nod and scaring Jarvis in the process. Muttering an apology, Tony cradled her against his chest softly to soothe her, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head until she fell asleep next to the steady thumping of his heart. 

*****

Despite the approaching rain clouds, enough sunlight managed to peek through the grey sky that the group spent the next few hours on the front porch with music (Harley even brought his guitar out) and drinks (nonalcoholic for Tony and the kids, obviously), Morgan and Levi playing with Lego on the porch coffee table, and the entire group laughing as Rhodey recounted stories of some of Tony’s wildest birthday celebrations during their time at MIT. With Jarvis sleeping in the front of his cardigan, Stephen was elated to finally feel like he was a part of this family, but even more so as he watched Tony’s face light up with a beautiful, sparkling smile. His open, joyful laughter was infectious and like the sweetest music Stephen had ever heard as the engineer corrected his friend on who was responsible for that stove fire in their third year. 

Tony’s eyes lit up as ‘Rock Me Gently’ began playing over the speaker, meeting Stephen’s eyes with a mischievous look as he got to his feet and held his hands out to the sorcerer. Stephen hesitated, grinning testily as Tony gestured for him to join him as he danced backwards to an open area of the porch. Goaded on gently by May and Rhodey especially not to let the birthday boy down, Stephen relented, passing Jarvis to Peter carefully as he let Tony gather him in his arms and lead him in a swaying dance around the porch. Held securely against Tony’s soft front in his strong embrace, Stephen gave in to the beat of the music as he felt himself relaxing and was reminded of their first time dancing to this song. It had been the morning after their first kiss, swaying carefully around the living room when everything had still been so new and intimidating. 

Now, Stephen couldn’t imagine being anywhere else as he felt the joyful hum of Tony’s laughter against his own chest, pressing a kiss to his cheek and meeting his bright, loving gaze. With his back to the group, Tony took the chance to let his good hand slide to cup Stephen’s ass with a quick squeeze, slowly sliding it back up to rest on the small of his back again with a teasing smile. 

“Well, you’re just full of piss and vinegar today, aren’t you?”, Stephen muttered with a raised eyebrow, pulling Tony against his front softly as the song neared its end. “If that’s what this song does to you, maybe we should play it more often.”

“I want you inside me”, Tony whispered huskily in his ear, and Stephen had to brace himself with his hands on the engineer’s shoulders at the sudden head rush he felt, literally feeling his knees weaken. He met Tony’s eyes with a heavy blush, grateful that his back was to the group now as they had slowly turned around, but Tony didn’t offer any further explanation, instead pouting cheekily at the sorcerer before returning to his seat. Stephen excused himself inside quickly, taking a moment to compose himself in the privacy of the kitchen before recruiting Happy and Rhodey to start up the barbecue. 

With Tony supervising the grilling of the cheeseburgers outside, Stephen made Rhodey promise not to let him touch the spatula, with Levi as backup to ensure this, and Taj at his side in case any burgers fell. Stephen, May, and Peter made sweet potato fries and caesar salad in the kitchen, while Harley took on the all important job of watching Morgan and Jarvis. 

Since Stephen hadn’t seen Peter in over a week, he had been relieved to get his initial greeting hug and one more in between washing lettuce as the teen vented to him about his exams. May smiled at them both as she convinced Peter to tell the sorcerer about the significantly more exciting news of MJ inviting him over to study for calculus. Stephen offered the teen the mandatory knowing grin and teasing comments, though he was secretly pleased for him, noticing the affectionate smile May was giving them. Of course, she knew about Peter recently deciding to call Stephen ‘Doctor Dad’ and had embraced her nephew’s newfound comfortable relationship with the sorcerer, giving her reason to welcome Stephen even more readily into the family, if anything. 

About fifteen minutes later, Tony came through the front door to announce that burgers were ready, letting May and Peter brush past him to take the salad and fries outside to the picnic table. Levi latched onto the teen’s shoulders on his way out, and Stephen noticed the engineer checking his phone for the umpteenth time since that morning.

“Who are possibly waiting for a message from? Everyone’s here”, Stephen teased, immediately regretting his words as Tony’s face fell and he realized the lie hidden in what he had said. Of course. Pepper wasn’t here. “Tony, I’m sorry.” Tony shook his head tiredly, running a hand down his face as he leaned against the counter, staring down at his phone screen.

“It…it’s fine, Steph. I don’t know what I was expecting”, he said, clearly embarrassed. Silence fell over the kitchen for several minutes as they stood together, save for the ticking of the analogue clock on the wall. “A text. I guess I was at least expecting a ‘happy birthday’ text, but that’s ridiculous. That’s too much to ask for, right?”, Tony shrugged, a crestfallen expression on his face and Stephen’s heart broke for him as he quietly wiped his hands on a dish towel. 

“That’s not too much to ask for, love”, Stephen said carefully, wary of overstepping his bounds. “That’s the very least someone could do on your birthday.” Tony just shook his head again, shoulders tense as his eyes got misty staring into the middle distance, past the sorcerer as he clenched his phone in his hand tightly. 

“She’s always been here for my birthday”, Tony choked out, brow pinched as he tried to hold his tears back. “I can’t remember the last birthday I had without her, even though I know they happened. They had to have happened, in MIT like those stories Rhodey was telling, but I can’t remember my last birthday without her.” Tears trickled down Tony’s cheeks as he met Stephen’s eyes shakily. “Fuck, Steph, I miss her. I shouldn’t, but I miss being friends with her like we used to be. I miss having her here sometimes, and I don’t want to, but I’m just so used to having her around.” 

Stephen nodded quietly as he toyed with the dish towel in his aching hands, guilt weighing heavily in his chest as he couldn’t help but feel that Pepper would be here as a friend if not for him. She would have been here for Morgan’s birthday if not for their spat that Stephen’s sensitivity had caused, resulting in Tony going to yell at her in Stephen’s defence, effectively driving a wedge between them. Layered on top of the guilt was the frustrated anger the sorcerer felt towards Pepper, thinking of how she could have at least spared five seconds of her time to send Tony a quick birthday text.

“I’m so sorry, Stephen”, Tony said suddenly, ashamed and quietly horrified with himself as he met the sorcerer’s eyes with tears still streaming down his face. “You must think I’m some unfaithful jack ass. I shouldn’t be saying this to you, I shouldn’t be thinking this at all. I’m so sorry, I don’t want you to be pissed at me after everything you’ve done for me today. I’m-.” Tony cut himself off as Stephen stepped forward and gathered him in his arms, not able to stand his apologetic rambling anymore as he hugged him gently.

“Ssshh ssshh, come here, darlin’. I’m not mad at you”, Stephen soothed softly, wrapping his arms around the engineer’s shoulders and feeling him respond immediately, Tony latching on to his waist while pressing his face against Stephen’s chest. Tony cried quietly against the sorcerer’s chest, face buried in his soft cardigan as his shoulders shook while Stephen rubbed his back slowly despite the sharp pain in his hands, and held him tightly. His heart broke for the way Tony always gave pieces of his big heart of gold away to each and every person he loved, though not everyone treated it as they should. Stephen heard a creak at the screen door and looked up to find Happy peering through at them in concern, giving the sorcerer a questioning look. Stephen nodded softly, mouthing, ‘He’s okay’, in an attempt to assure the former bodyguard, earning an appreciative and sympathetic smile in return before Happy returned to the group, most likely to let them know what was keeping the birthday man. 

“I’m sorry”, Tony repeated in a dry croak as he turned his face to the side with his cheek pressed against the sorcerer’s cardigan, eyes red as he held onto Stephen numbly.

“Don’t be sorry, Tony. It’s okay”, Stephen said softly before taking a deep breath, trying to keep his voice as steady and convincing as possible. “You…you’re allowed to miss her. Alright? I can’t hold that against you. I can’t resent you for that, because I understand, okay? I understand missing someone who you were maybe never meant to be with romantically in the long run, but you miss their company anyway. But you’re certainly allowed to miss her, you’re allowed to be sad when you don’t get a ‘happy birthday’ text from the woman who has been in your life for decades, okay? She’s the CEO of your company, your wife of five years, and the mother of your daughter, I can’t expect you to cut her out of your life completely.” Stephen felt Tony shudder quietly at this last part and he held him tighter as he felt the anxious guilt rip through his chest at tearing Morgan’s childhood apart, even if it was so much healthier for everyone this way. 

“You’re allowed to miss her”, Stephen repeated gently, but with conviction as he squeezed Tony’s shoulders carefully before pulling back a bit. “And if you guys can come to an understanding and be friends again one day, then I’d be fine with that too.” Stephen wiped the tears from his scarred and unscarred cheek alike with gentle, trembling fingers, looking down into Tony’s tearful yet trusting eyes. Stephen could practically feel Tony’s love and relief flowing through their life force connection and it nearly knocked him off his feet with it’s weight. 

“Why are you so good? Why are you so patient with me?”, Tony asked in a broken whisper, scanning the sorcerer’s eyes as if looking for the answer. 

“Because she made you feel like this. And I want to fix it”, Stephen started carefully, looking down into Tony’s eyes as he cupped his cheeks in both aching hands carefully, scars on scars. “Because I love you, and I want to show you all the good things and all the happiness that you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve you”, Tony frowned as his eyes welled with more tears.

“You do”, Stephen said quickly. “And I’m going to make sure you believe that one day.” He leaned down to press a tender kiss against Tony’s forehead, earning a tiny flicker of a grin in response before Tony went to splash cool water on his face from the kitchen sink. Drying his face brusquely with a clean hand towel, Tony nodded decisively with a shaky breath as Stephen intertwined their fingers, and they walked out hand in hand to have dinner with the rest of their family. 

*****

After dinner, and a (smaller than usual) slice of homemade cheesecake with strawberries and blueberry sauce, Tony was herded into the living room by everyone as the wind blew outside and heavy rain clouds loomed, most enthusiastically by Morgan as she was eager to give her dad his birthday present. Taj centred himself in the exact middle of the living room in order to keep an eye on everyone, Levi drifting between Tony’s and the kid’s shoulders, while Jarvis was gently passed around from lap to lap, getting to know her new family with tiny, excited mews, though she always made her way back to Tony’s chest when it was time for a nap. 

While everyone got settled in the living room with mugs of coffee, Tony had been hunting for his reading glasses (in order to be able to read birthday cards) for a good five minutes before mentioning his futile search to Stephen, and the sorcerer didn’t even need to look up from where he was putting left over cake in a container, muttering fondly, “They’re on your head, darlin’.” Tony swore under his breath, going on about how he was actually getting old, and that they might as well buy him a chain for his glasses at this point. 

Glasses retrieved, Tony sat in the middle of the sofa with the kids clustered around him, though Harley sat on the arm of the sofa and tried his best to look bored as Tony opened his present from Morgan, clearly self-wrapped with Stephen’s patient help. The pillow-sized cheeseburger plushie she had gotten for him was well-received, though Tony realized with a weird jolt in his chest that the card was in Pepper’s handwriting. Hurriedly blinking away overly-emotional tears, Tony was able to keep it together through the rest of his gifts, (a novelty mug from Rhodey that was a long-running inside joke between them, a bi flag-coloured beanie from May and Happy seeing as New York Pride was coming up, and a hand-made metal Iron Man helmet keychain from Harley) until he got to the gift from Peter. 

The small, rectangular box weighed heavily in Tony’s hands as the teen watched him with wide-eyed anticipation and a soft smile. Returning his smile warmly, Tony opened the box with shaking hands to find a small silver rectangle of metal, a double ‘P’ etched into one corner as the signature mark of its inventor. The small device, Peter explained, was designed to be used on it’s own while attached to his cybernetic arm or tap into Tony’s armour’s pre-existing vital monitoring system and send out an emergency transmission if Tony were to ever get injured, automatically alerting the phones of everyone sitting in the room.

“Thank you”, Tony managed to choke out as he pushed his glasses up on to his head, dread heavy in his chest as he realized that Morgan’s fear of his getting hurt again in the future was reflected in his other kids as well. Choking on the necessity of the feather-light object in his hands, Tony bit his lip hard to keep from tearing up, failing as he met Peter’s eyes with an apologetic look. He was sorry for dragging Peter into battles that he never should have seen, sorry for the fear-driven creation of the nimble hands and genius mind of his son who was so much like him, sorry for the protective worry that encompassed the teen who shouldn’t have to fear for the life of his father figure.

“I’m sorry”, Tony whispered beside Peter’s ear, the device still clenched in his good hand as he pulled the teen into a crushing hug. “I’m not going anywhere”, he promised feeling Peter’s grip tighten around him as Tony pressed a kiss to his cheek. Tony was relieved when any further tears were interrupted by Stephen’s gag gift of boba tea, since they both knew the sorcerer had bought it more for himself than Tony, but grateful for the distraction as Peter went with the sorcerer to make glasses of bubble tea for everyone to try. 

Watching his partner and kid laughing and teasing one another in the kitchen with the rest of his family talking around him, Tony kept the metal device clenched in his hand and accepted Morgan into his arms when she seemed to notice that her dad was in dire need of a hug. Tony held her tightly as she laid on his chest, leaning his head against her’s softly and closing his eyes in the comfort of having her safe in his arms.

His birthday last year had only been a month after the Snap, and Tony had been in too much full-body, debilitating pain to even register what had happened on that day. He had known at that point that there was still a fifty/fifty chance of his not surviving the after effects of the gamma radiation, clinging to life and his family, the only acknowledgment of his birthday being the candle-lit cupcake which Morgan ended up eating for him since he couldn’t stomach any real food. But this year, he was able to truly revel in the mere fact that he was still alive, that he had made it another year. And he wanted to be alive now, he had a reason to continue his life without all the depressive self-loathing from before his Snap. He had his kids, his closest friends, and Stephen, the reason he had survived for another trip around the sun, pure joy and love ebbing through his veins and overwhelming him pleasantly. 

———

Later that evening, after several hours of snacking, drinking, swapping stories, and laughing together while scattered about the living room, May announced that her troop better roll out as she had a fairly early shift at the hospital tomorrow morning, teasing Tony that not everyone was retired. She and Happy had offered to have Morgan over for a sleepover to allow her dads a night to themselves, taking the little girl in her arms once Morgan had given Tony and Stephen their goodnight hugs and kisses. 

“Love you tons”, Tony said softly, pressing another kiss to Morgan’s cheek as she clung half asleep in May’s arms, the little girl beyond exhausted from an exciting day, especially since it was well past her bedtime.

“Love you three thousand”, Morgan muttered back sleepily with her eyes closed, and Tony gave May a quick cheek kiss in thanks before stepping to the side and pulling Peter into a hug, resting his chin on the teen’s shoulder as he was thrown off not for the first time by how tall he was getting.

“I really do like the gift, Underoos”, he muttered in assurance beside Peter’s ear, rubbing the teen’s back softly. “I’m proud of you for making it, even without your old man’s help. You and me can start working on more stuff together once you’re done exams, okay?” Peter nodded his agreement and accepted a parting cheek kiss before going to hug Stephen goodbye as well. Tony smiled quietly to himself as May gave Stephen a one-armed hug with Morgan still clinging to her, the sorcerer even receiving a friendly shoulder squeeze from Happy as he and the Parkers left out the front door. Tony waved them off from the front porch as their car disappeared down the dark driveway, storm clouds gathering darkly overhead in the late dusk as a cool rain began to fall. 

Tony went back inside to find Stephen and Rhodey sitting on the couch, laughing together as they finished their drinks, and Tony dropped down between them on the couch with a satisfying warmth in his chest, catching Stephen’s eye as the sorcerer threw his head back in laughter at the story Rhodey was telling. By the time their drinks were done, Jarvis was asleep on Tony’s chest as he found himself lost in his own sleepy contentment. The rain was falling steadily outside by the time Rhodey announced his plans to head out and Harley mentioned that he was in need of a ride into town to meet up with some friends, receiving a gentle glare for the colonel before he invited the twenty-one-year-old to tag along. 

Tony pursed his lips to offer cheek kisses which Rhodey and Harley accepted (though the kid did so rather begrudgingly) as they got up and prepared to leave, insurmountable affection filling Tony’s chest as he watched his best friend and partner give each other a friendly hug as a goodbye. Harley insulted Stephen lovingly, something about suggesting that he stick to wizardry instead of baking, but calling him ‘Doctor Mom’ after the fact took all the bite out of his attempted insult. 

“Call me if you’re going to get home before midnight and I’ll come get you. Or stay the night at one of your friend’s houses if you’re out really late”, Stephen told the kid with a tinge of worry in his tone as Harley walked out the door behind Rhodey. “Don’t you dare get a ride home from one of your friends if they’re drunk.”

“Yes, Mom”, Harley said in a way that was supposed to be mocking, rolling his eyes hugely as he let the screen door slam shut. Stephen settled onto the sofa beside Tony, shaking his head with an affectionate sigh as they heard the Corvette start off down the driveway. 

“Why am I the one always scolding your gremlin child, while you get the angelic spider baby?”, Stephen grumbled, though Tony could see the teasing twinkle in his intense blue-green eyes.

“Because he listens to you”, Tony reasoned, absently stroking Jarvis’s back with one finger as she continued to snooze on his chest. “I’ve been yelling at him for a decade and he still ignores everything I say. Also, news flash: He’s your gremlin child too, now.”

“Oh, joy”, Stephen muttered dryly, leaning forward to kiss Tony’s temple as he looked in his eyes with a playful smile, his beautiful ocean eyes betraying his excitement. “I have something I want to show you.”

“I’ve seen your dick before, babe, remember? And it’s very nice, but not exactly a surprise”, Tony grinned, giggling as Stephen rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh for show.

“Not that, at least not yet”, Stephen chuckled with a wry smirk. “It’s in the den. Come on”, Stephen said as he stood and offered him his hand, and Tony hesitated before grabbing his forearm gently and letting the sorcerer hoist him to his feet.

“Can I bring the kitten?”, Tony asked, pouting slightly as he cradled a still sleeping Jarvis against his chest softly with his good hand.

“Of course you can bring her. I promise it’s cat-friendly”, Stephen chuckled again softly, pressing a tender kiss against the scarred side of Tony’s neck as he pulled him closer, and Tony had to tighten his hold on Stephen’s arm to keep his feet. He felt a big, trembling hand gently steal into his cybernetic one as the sorcerer lead him down the hall to the back den, guiding him carefully to the piano overlooking the dusk-heavy backyard where the rain had begun to fall more heavily. Candles were scattered about the room and casting a warm light in the semi-darkness, mostly on top of the piano as they sat down on the bench together. A wide grin made its way across Tony’s face as he looked around the room in awe.

“You did this for me, you big freaking sap?”, Tony asked, overwhelmed affection bleeding into his voice as he met Stephen’s eyes and the sorcerer nodded, subconsciously sidling closer to him on the bench so their thighs were brushing together. “But you can’t play today, Stephers. Your hands”, Tony reminded him gently, placing a concerned, placating hand on his forearm again.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’m using a spell to steady them”, Stephen assured him in a low voice, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek in that way that always made Tony weak, the sorcerer’s lips warmly brushing his damaged skin like he were something precious made of gold. Tony huffed in gentle protest as he still held Jarvis gently against his chest, his breath catching in his throat as Stephen began to play softly.

_“I walked across an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand”_, Stephen began to sing softly, the faint gold spark of magic dancing around his fingers and helping him press down on the keys as painlessly as possible. _“I felt the earth beneath my feet. Sat by the river, and it made me complete.”_ Tony felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine as he recognized the song from the very first verse, his heart flip-flopping in his chest as he realized the weight of the sorcerer’s song choice.

_“Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. So tell me when you're gonna let me in”_, Stephen sang, his voice soft and silvery as he met Tony’s eyes with a gently meaningful smile. _“I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.”_

_“I came across a fallen tree. I felt the branches of it looking at me. Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?” _Tony could practically feel how hard that last line hit with Stephen, tearing up as he realized fully how desperately the sorcerer had been wishing for the family that he was now a part of, along with the close dependency and understanding they had with each other. Jarvis had woken up from the sound of the piano at this point, squirming in Tony’s arms and he put her on the floor gently. Tony was absolutely enraptured as he devoted all of his attention to the sorcerer, Stephen's usual deep baritone deceptively light as he sang sweetly, repeating the pre-chorus while bronze energy danced around his hands. 

_“Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. So tell me when you're gonna let me in. I’m getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.”_ Tony swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, chest burning with emotion as he wrapped his arms gently around Stephen’s upper arm, leaning his head on the sorcerer’s shoulder as he played. Instead, he focused on Stephen’s heady, dark chocolate voice intermixing with the resonating notes of the piano and the heavily falling rain. The lyrics wormed their way into his very soul, tears springing to his eyes as he felt Stephen press a soft kiss to the top of his head. They had been through so much to get to this point, Tony was overwhelmed with silent gratitude, kissing Stephen’s shoulder as felt the gentle rumbling vibrations of his voice travel through his body. It might have taken him fifty-four years to get to this point, but Tony was the happiest he had ever been and could have lost himself in the moment forever as he closed his eyes in contentment.

_“And if you have a minute, why don't we go. Talk about it somewhere only we know?”_, Stephen sang and Tony remembered in a split second the last time he had heard this song. Stephen had been playing it on this very piano the morning after their first kiss, and Tony had been too busy pulling the sorcerer softly against his mouth to recognize the song until that exact moment. Overwhelmed with emotion, Tony pressed a kiss against Stephen’s cheek as desperate, passionate love surged through his body, wrapping an arm around the sorcerer’s waist as he pulled him closer. Four days without his partner had left him anxious, lonely, and needy, and he was willing to give into temptation on his birthday of all days, not even attempting to hide his lust for the sorcerer that he’d been suppressing all day.

_“This could be the end of everything. So why don't we go-.” _Stephen cut himself off with a soft chuckle as Tony turned on the bench so he could reach the corner of his mouth, pressing furtive kisses to his jaw. “Let me finish, darlin’”, Stephen muttered softly, though he turned his head so Tony could reach better. Tony barely relented at his words, kissing his partner’s goatee, his cheek, the corner of his mouth almost desperately.

“Kiss me”, Tony pleaded, moaning breathlessly with relief as Stephen gave in, his hands moving from the piano keys to Tony’s shoulders as he pressed against his mouth. No matter how many times they made out, Tony was intrigued by how easily Stephen could get his motor running, never thinking that would get so excited by someone’s mere presence well into his fifties. Stephen was safety, he was his home, and Tony could never get enough of him, pressing into his mouth fervently as he attempted to show his gratitude for the song, for today, for everything. For saving his life thirteen months ago.

“You remembered the song, hmm?”, Stephen chuckled teasingly between kisses, canting his head to the side to trail slow, hungry kisses down the side of Tony’s neck. His large, warm hands had found their way under the edge of the engineer’s sweatshirt, resting on the bare skin of his waist and Tony shivered pleasurably at the feeling.

“Oh, shut up”, Tony growled playfully, pressing his tongue against Stephen’s hotly as he drew him into his mouth, pulling back and biting his lower lip, practically sitting in his lap at this point as he pressed himself solidly against the sorcerer’s front. “I love you, you gorgeous human. You’re so sweet and perfect and I just want you to kiss me right now”, Tony whined softly against his lips, arms braced loosely around the sorcerer’s neck

“Don’t think I forgot about what you said earlier”, Stephen purred deeply beside his ear, and Tony felt a sudden rush of heat that left him dizzy, the sorcerer wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist and pulling his body flush against him.

“What? That Rhodey makes better cheeseburgers than you?”, Tony muttered teasingly despite the way he was rendered breathless and blushing from the sorcerer’s baritone rumble.

“No. And they couldn’t have been that good if you only ate one”, Stephen retorted gently and Tony squirmed in embarrassment, hiding his face against Stephen’s neck under the guise of pressing kisses to his exposed skin. Of course Stephen had noticed. Tony had been foolish to think that he could sneak his unusually meagre portions of food past the sorcerer’s perceptive gaze, but those hurtful words from the diner yesterday had lodged themselves into his brain and refused to let him eat anything in peace.

“Shut up”, Tony repeated weakly, sliding the sorcerer’s cardigan off his shoulders as he bit his ear gently, while Stephen cupped his ass with both hands that were evidently still steadied by a spell, pulling Tony towards him as the engineer was practically grinding against his thigh. Tony whimpering softly as he felt his jeans getting tighter. 

“Bedroom. Now”, he nearly begged, clambering off the sorcerer’s lap and pulling him to his feet by his forearm. Stephen followed more than willingly, Tony’s protective instincts satisfied once they passed the living room to find Taj curled up on the sofa, with Jarvis tucked into the divot between his back and front leg, practically drowning in the mutt’s furry coat while Levi watched over them from the back of the sofa.

Content that the newest member of their family was safe, Tony tugged Stephen up the stairs hurriedly, yelping as the sorcerer pinched him on the ass, and giggling as Stephen practically chased him up to their room. Stumbling into the dark of their bedroom, Tony grabbed handfuls of the front of the sorcerer’s shirt to pull him into a hungry, passionate kiss, before shoving him back on the bed softly as Stephen closed the door and locked it with a spell. The odds of Harley being home before midnight were slim to none, but they had learned to not take chances when it came to locking their door. Stephen flicked the bedside lamp on with a spell as Tony followed him further up on the bed, pushing him back to sit up against the pillows as he climbed on top of the sorcerer, straddling his waist while attacking his neck with feverish kisses.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all day, you know that?”, Stephen asked him huskily, leaning forward a little to pull Tony’s sweatshirt over his head carefully, pressing hot lips against the now exposed skin, slowly sucking hickeys on the unscarred side of Tony’s neck. 

“Yes, I know that”, Tony spat back breathlessly, grinding against the sorcerer’s lap with soft grunts as he held on to his shoulders. “I’ve been hinting at it pretty hard all day, Strange. You’re not very good at taking a hint.”

“No, I got it”, Stephen purred, meeting his eyes with a twinkle of amusement despite the warm flush of his cheeks. “But we had guests, in case you didn’t notice. And children present.” Tony gave him a chiding look before pressing against Stephen’s chest and kissing him soundly, rocking his hips against him as he worked at the top buttons of his button down.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve been wanting you, baby? How much I’ve missed you?”, Tony gasped softly against his lips, feeling Stephen harden under him as he used his weight to pin the sorcerer to the bed.

“Show me”, Stephen challenged smoothly, meeting Tony’s eyes with a cool, hungry look, making the engineer realize that he no longer had the upper hand. Tony had to choke past the feeling of not being in control, silently chanting to himself that it was fine, it was Stephen, he was safe, he didn’t need to be in control because Stephen would never hurt him. Regardless, Tony remained straddling the sorcerer as he kissed him again, cybernetic and good hand alike fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

“Why do you always wear so much fucking clothing?”, Tony hissed under his breath, frustrated by the tiny buttons that his arousal wasn’t letting him focus on undoing. Stephen flicked his fingers with a quick spell and the buttons came undone all at once, revealing the red and silvery scars criss-crossed across his body as Tony helped him pull his shirt off, making sure to be careful of his hands as he did so. 

Even in the past two months since their first time together in the Sanctum, Stephen had gained a substantial amount of weight, mostly muscle, and Tony ran his hands down his bare abdomen appreciatively, pressing kisses all over his chest and paying special attention to the scars there. Stephen blushed softly under the attention, grabbing Tony’s ass firmly as he helped him in grinding against his lap, groaning softly as Tony felt him hard and ready in the front of his joggers.

“Let me ride you?”, Tony pleaded under his breath, hazy eyes meeting Stephen’s with endless trust and love. 

The three other times that they had had actual intercourse since their first time, Tony had still been the one to top, no matter the position, and he knew how patient Stephen had been with him, with all of this insecurities, which Tony appreciated endlessly. It was a matter of trust more than anything else, because god knew Tony’s innermost urges were screaming to have Stephen dominate him, take care of him, make him feel special and loved like he always did. Of course he trusted the sorcerer with his life, but some things took a little longer to warm up to than others. Stephen seemed to realize the weight of Tony’s request, nodding breathlessly as he met his gaze levelly.

Tony didn’t waste any time in clambering off of his partner’s lap to rid them both of their pants, socks, and boxers. He didn’t remove his own light grey Henley shirt, however, meeting Stephen’s eyes almost guilty, though the sorcerer just gave him a reassuring smile in return. That was another test of Stephen’s undying patience: He still had yet to see Tony shirtless, and the incident in the diner yesterday certainly hadn’t done anything to boost Tony’s confidence levels. 

Tony interrupted the conga line of self-hatred in his head as he straddled Stephen’s waist again, hands roaming his body hungrily as they met each other with hot, open mouths. Stephen moaned softly into his mouth as Tony took the sorcerer’s length in his good hand and stroked him solidly. Stephen responded in kind as he cupped Tony’s ass in both hands again, pulling him up further to lay against his chest as he gently slid a magically lubed finger against his perineum, and Tony tensed involuntarily.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?”, Stephen asked, his voice devastatingly soft even as Tony could hear in his voice how much he was restraining himself. “‘Cause we can do whatever you’re comfortable with, and I’m fine with that. You know that.”

“I’m sure. Please”, Tony gasped breathlessly, pushing himself back against his hand as he kissed the sorcerer’s muscular chest. He appreciated the concern, considering he hadn’t been penetrated in well over a decade (he had yet to let Stephen know about it, but he and Pepper used to use a strap-on occasionally), but a week apart had left him absolutely starving for his man’s touch and attention. “Lube the birthday boy up already.” 

“Alright, alright, keep your pants on”, Stephen chuckled gently, keeping one hand reassuringly on Tony’s upper back as he slowly worked a finger into him, steadied by magic to avoid hurting his hands. Once he got past the initial burning discomfort, Tony reminded himself how to relax as he let himself enjoy the nearly forgotten sensation of being gently worked open. It took several long minutes, but Tony was moaning and keening loudly by the time Stephen added a second finger and curled his fingers gently, face flushed as he pressed a cheek against the sorcerer’s chest. As usual, Stephen had far more patience than he did, insisting that Tony wait for himself to get used to another finger, but the engineer was already sliding his ass back against his hard member, and Stephen would have needed a much stronger will to resist Tony’s needy whines.

“Hhhhnnmm, come on. Fuck me, Stephen”, Tony pleaded openly, face flushed with embarrassment and arousal as he pressed back against his partner’s cock, moaning as Stephen grabbed his ass and rutted against it slowly, pressing the head right against his opening. Tony couldn’t stand it anymore as he sat up, reaching back to hold the sorcerer’s throbbing member steady as he positioned himself, Stephen’s hands gentle on his hips as he slowly slid down onto his shaft.

“Oh, fuck. Tony”, Stephen gasped breathlessly with a deep groan, and Tony could see him resisting the urge to thrust upwards, silently thanking him as he steadied himself with his hands on the sorcerer’s broad shoulders. He’d never admit it out loud, but it might have been a good idea to let Stephen open him up more, hissing as he sunk further down the sorcerer’s thick length, gasping softly while Stephen looked up at him in concern.

“Tony, darlin’, are you-?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just give me a second”, Tony huffed, feeling himself relax as his body adjusted to the sorcerer’s girth, starting to move up and down slowly while Stephen groaned softly, rubbing his thighs encouragingly with his big, gentle hands. 

“There you go, sweetheart. Just take it slow”, Stephen muttered under his breath, his voice strained with pleasure as he looked up at Tony lovingly, his high cheekbones dusted beautifully with a rosy pink.

“Oh, fucking hell, Steph. Baby, you feel so good”, Tony gasped out in one breath, rolling his hips as he rode the sorcerer slowly, panting and moaning softly while he steadied himself with his hands alternating between Stephen’s stomach and shoulders. He met his love’s eyes, lost in their deep sea glass, silver, galaxy-colored vibrance, looking down at him trustingly into those eyes which held so much love, so many promises that he knew would never be broken. 

“Do you trust me?”, Stephen breathed in a moment of intense vulnerability, his eyes locked with Tony’s in all their ethereal clarity and softness. 

“Yes, of course”, Tony said, brow furrowing slightly in confusion before Stephen braced his forearms behind Tony’s back and rolled them over while staying inside him, switching positions in one fluid movement, no doubt aided by magic. Tony panted softly as he now found himself looking up into Stephen’s clear, loving eyes, hands still gripping his shoulders steadily.

“That okay? Do you still trust me?”, Stephen asked softly, cupping Tony’s scarred cheek with one trembling hand, shifting slightly to move them both so they were comfortable, adjusting the pillow behind Tony’s head carefully.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do”, Tony muttered, kissing his cheek softly as his heart pounded with love and exhilaration. “Now, is this a therapy session or are you going to fuck me already?”

“Can I do something first?”, Stephen chuckled as he pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead tenderly, gentle, scarred hands drifting to the bottom of his shirt, and Tony tensed up immediately.

“Why?”, Tony asked warily, knowing there was that animalistic fear in his eyes as Stephen gave him a heartbroken look.

“Because you're beautiful, and I wish you were comfortable enough with me to take your shirt off”, Stephen explained gently, his hands ghosting over the soft fabric, his long, piano fingers molded to Tony’s love handles gently as they traced down his sides. Tony felt insurmountable guilt and frustration well in his chest at Stephen’s gentle plea, wishing he wasn’t so sensitive about his weight. But the incident in the diner yesterday was still too fresh in his mind, making him shudder with disgust and self-loathing. 

He was about to turn the sorcerer down when Stephen softly dipped down to press a kiss to the very centre of his arc reactor scar through the fabric of his shirt. Stephen had never seen the scar in person, only through the fourteen million realities, but that tender gesture was enough to remind Tony that this man would do anything for him, that he would never judge him, and he would certainly never love him any less for seeing his scars or his soft belly. 

“Okay”, Tony breathed out, barely audible over the thrumming of the rain against the window, eyes closed and head turned to the side as Stephen pulled out with a soft groan, pressing kisses to Tony’s stomach much as he had last night. Tony shuddered softly as he felt the sorcerer’s hands drift up his sides under his shirt, lifting it slowly as he felt the rasp of his stubble and soft lips pressing tender kisses on the bare skin of his stomach. 

“You’re safe, I’ve got you, Tony”, Stephen muttered softly, though Tony flinched minutely as his trembling hands grazed the scarred skin on the side of his ribcage that they had never touched. It was a painstaking process as Stephen slowly undid his insecurities, pressing tiny loving touches all over his abdomen, praising him lavishly, telling him what a good job he was doing, how beautiful he was. He promised Tony that he would never hurt him, and of course Tony knew that, but it was still reassuring to hear as Stephen pushed his shirt up past his midsection, pressing his lips against his belly with a butterfly soft touch against scarred and unscarred skin alike. 

Tony felt an overwhelmed sob involuntarily worm its way into his chest, getting caught in his throat as he teared up, barely able to believe that he was worthy of such attention. But Stephen kept telling him how much he loved him, the sorcerer’s expression unbearably patient and gentle in the low, golden lamp light, and Tony was overcome with a gratifying warmth surging up from the pit in his chest, blossoming into loving gratitude as he focused on the feeling of Stephen’s soft lips dancing across the scarred skin of his abdomen. He carded his fingers through the sorcerer’s dark hair slowly, closing his eyes as happy, overwhelmed tears trickled from the corners of his eyes.

Finally, Stephen oh so gently eased the shirt over Tony’s head and off his arms, setting it aside carefully and Tony had never felt so vulnerable and safe all at once with his scarred, imperfect, overweight body bare and exposed in front of the man he loved more than life itself. Stephen didn’t lean back to take in the sight of him as Tony had with him during their first time, instead pressing a loving kiss to the very centre of his arc reactor scar, lips pressed against Tony’s bare skin as if he had been waiting to do that his entire life.

“I love you”, Stephen said in an overwhelmed whisper, and Tony turned his head to meet his eyes, staggered by the loving reverence he found within them. “I love you, Tony. I love you so much.”

“I love you too”, he breathed back, accepting Stephen’s lips warmly against his own before the sorcerer dipped lower again, and they both trembled a little as he kissed the scar under Tony’s left pectoral, the scar where he had been stabbed with his own nanite blade on Titan. Brushing past the heavy emotions of that gesture, Tony was grateful when Stephen pressed slowly into him again, surprised that he was still hard, but moaning in lustful relief in response. 

Stephen muttered sweet nothings beside his ear, kissing his neck softly as they quickly worked their way back up to their original fervour and Tony shuddered as he closed his eyes in pure bliss, moaning as Stephen increased his pace steadily. Tony could almost forget his crippling insecurities completely as Stephen took care of him, fitting together perfectly while the sorcerer pressed tender kisses against his neck and jaw.

“Stephen”, Tony whined softly, begging for more and the sorcerer thrusted a little more solidly, one gentle hand still caressing Tony’s scarred abdomen while pressing hot, panting kisses against his neck. He canted his hips a certain way as he moved and Tony cried out in pleasurable shock, immediately pressing a fist to his mouth in embarrassment, though Stephen just chuckled breathlessly and kissed his cheek in reassurance.

“You like that, hmm? That feels good like that, darlin’?”, the sorcerer purred with another gently definitive thrust, and Tony shivered with pleasure as he moaned loudly.

“S-Stephen, baby, pl-please more”, Tony whined, blushing heavily as he buried his face in Stephen’s shoulder, clinging to him while his body was overcome with arousal, his cock hardening against his belly as he reached down to stroke himself with his good hand. Tony kept his cybernetic arm hooked around the sorcerer’s shoulders as he grazed his prostrate repeatedly, edging him on with an impressive amount of precision as Tony felt himself barrelling towards climax. He was overcome with pleasure, moaning loudly as he could do little more than hold on to Stephen as the sorcerer kept thrusting into him, his beautiful, languid body taut with muscle, though he was extremely aware of Tony’s reaction to his every move as he panted softly against his shoulder. 

“Was this worth the wait, hmm?”, Stephen teased gently as he lowered onto his elbows to save his hands from aching, kissing Tony’s cheek and groaning into his mouth as they met in a breathless, heated kiss. “I kind of like when you miss me, sweetheart. You’re cute when you’re desperate”, Stephen said, his voice that deep, chocolate-coated rumble of thunder that turned Tony on more than anything, making him shiver and feel weak in the knees even though he wasn’t standing.

“Don’t get too full of yourself, big boy”, Tony breathed, cutting himself off with a loud moan as Stephen retorted with a thrust that hit his prostate soundly. Forgoing any further attempts at cocky comebacks, Tony was reduced to a blushing, writhing, panting mess as Stephen praised him lavishly while fucking into him, surprised and thrilled by the sorcerer’s unexpected aptitude at dirty talk. Tony quivered helplessly as he was brought to the edge, pumping his fist around his own cock as the heat pooling in his lower abdomen started to trickle outwards from its centre coil.

“Ah, god, S-Steph. I-I’m gonna…fuck-.” Tony interrupted himself as he came suddenly, moaning loudly with each thrust as Stephen hit his prostate repeatedly. A soft groan was the only outward sign that the sorcerer had climaxed as well, head craned over Tony’s shoulder almost protectively, still kissing his neck and shoulder every so often. Hot electricity travelled through every nerve in Tony’s body as he shuddered, stomach clenching as he closed his eyes against the white hot pleasure coursing through him. Another wave of pleasure made all of his muscles contract and release, holding onto Stephen’s shoulders in a breathless daze as felt the sorcerer’s hotly throbbing cock still thrusting inside him slowly.

“You alright there, darlin’?”, Stephen asked softly once he had stopped moving, and Tony looked up into his hazily concerned sea green eyes, responding with a fervent kiss pressed against the sorcerer’s parted lips. 

“Amazing”, Tony gasped with a breathless chuckle, kissing Stephen repeatedly as he caressed his shoulders gently. “Holy shit, you’re- fuck. You’re amazing. You’ve been holding out on me, Doc”, he teased ironically, since he was the one who’d been reluctant to let the sorcerer top until now, giggling as Stephen growled and attacked his neck with tickling kisses. Tony couldn’t help but whimper a little, wincing as Stephen pulled out carefully and cleaned them both up with a quick spell. He was distracted by the sorcerer’s playful kisses, giggling as Stephen rolled them both over and pulled Tony closer in his arms. 

“Thank you for trusting me”, Stephen purred raspily, kissing Tony’s cheek and then the tip of his nose as he looked in his eyes. Tony was knocked breathless by the rush of warmth and affection that hit his chest, running crimson metal fingers through the sorcerer’s dark hair as he pulled him down for a soft kiss, lips barely brushing together as they both still regained their breath.

“Thank you for reminding me of how much I trust you”, Tony whispered against his lips, wrapping his arms around the sorcerer’s broad chest, nose to nose with him as they rested their heads on the pillows. “I love you so much, Steph. And thank you for today, I think it was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“‘Cause of the cheesecake, right?”, Stephen muttered sleepily, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled softly, making Tony’s heart pound with adoration as he looked in those beautiful, galaxy-coloured eyes. 

“Obviously because of the cheesecake”, Tony agreed with a teasing chuckle, kissing his forehead tenderly as careful, scarred hands caressed his abdomen with a butterfly touch. Stephen ran the warm flat of his palm along his side, gliding along the soft curves of his hips and belly slowly, and Tony found that he didn’t mind, that it almost felt nice to have his scarred, battered body massaged with pure love and caring. 

“I love you too, by the way”, Stephen said under his breath, brow softening as he relaxed into his own bliss and exhaustion. “More than all the stars.”

“Wow”, Tony breathed with a sleepy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, cybernetic hand pressed against the sorcerer’s chest as he could feel his heart beat steadying under the silicon pad of his palm. “That’s a lot.”

Stephen stayed awake long enough to unlock the door with a spell and leave it open a crack in case Taj wanted to sleep in their room, checking his phone watch on the nightstand to find a message from Harley saying he’d be staying over at a friend’s house for the night. Content that their eldest was safe, Stephen settled back into Tony’s arms as he pulled the comforter up around them, and Tony dissolved in the warmth and safety of their life force. The rain had gotten heavier over the past hour, pattering steadily against the window as thunder rumbled over the lake, the deep vibrations drawing Tony into a peaceful sleep as he pressed his cheek against the steady thumping of his sorcerer’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENTS GIVE ME LIFE. LOVE YOU GUYS 14,000,606 <3
> 
> Stephen: *romantically lamenting about how much their relationship means to him*  
Tony: Wizard, did you use my fucking toothbrush?
> 
> The paddle board scene was inspired by Faerie2071’s request for a cute ironstrange boat ride. This isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I’m planning to do a boat scene on the lake with just the two of them in the near future. <3
> 
> Jarvis Junior Stephanie Stark-Strange is a brown tabby Maine Coone mix if ya'll want a visual <3 Also, I am soft for Tony as #1 cat dad
> 
> Remember in Chapter 12 (the Christmas chapter) how important it was for Stephen to be accepted by Tony’s friends/family? Yeah, he’s definitely 100% part of the family now. Happy and Rhodey love Stephen, especially with how good he is for their boy.
> 
> Last chapter showed some of Tony’s stress-eating habits and how this is contributing to his weight gain. He starts just…not eating after this chapter, but it doesn’t take long for Stephen to catch on and scold him for it.
> 
> Gorgeous piano cover sung by a guy for what Stephen would sound like singing “Somewhere Only We Know”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBjzmNMQkfA
> 
> Yeah, I’m weak for needy bottom Tony. Come at me. Also Stephen is very quiet during sex, while Tony is fucking loud. No one is surprised.


	24. Safeguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change is hard, but can happen for the best sometimes. Times change, people change, and hearts change for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I seriously don’t know how you fit your head into that helmet.”
> 
> Yes, this is a direct quote from Infinity War. Yes, it hurts a little bit.
> 
> Any suggestions for what VICTOR is an acronym for?
> 
> Color scheme suggestions for Iron Sorcerer? I was thinking mostly silver with dark green and gold accents, but idk. I’d do dark blue and silver, but that would look too much like Rescue. Maybe lead and silver with engraved gold runes carved into the metal?
> 
> Stephen in the prom prep scene is just like: Sorcerer gay. The man can’t sit right.
> 
> I just want to point out that I try to keep time as a consistent theme for Stephen.
> 
> Every single one of these scenes was supposed to be about half the length they ended up being, but I just had a lot of fun writing and they got away from me.
> 
> Alternative Title: “People are Gay, Stephen”

“You’re pinching me, Anthony.”

“Well, stop moving and I’ll stop pinching, honey”, Tony chided softly, running a programming device over the nanobots in the upper thigh of the armour, loosening their connection to each other to allow Stephen a greater range of motion. “I didn’t account for you gaining so much weight in your ass since I drew up the first drafts.” Stephen rolled his eyes with a huff even as a delicate blush worked its way across his cheeks, but stayed still otherwise. 

Two and a half months after starting work on the Iron Sorcerer armour, Tony had asked him to put the suit on so he could make some final adjustments to the nanobot programming. Tony had been focused on creating this most recent iteration of one of his nanotech suits, but not obsessively so as Stephen had insisted that there was no hurry to finish it, and he’d rather spend time relaxing with Tony whenever he was home from work in other dimensions. Nevertheless, as was his way, the engineer had become extremely focused on completing the armour as Stephen was required on more and more missions into alternate dimensions where the dangers were plentiful and absurd. He strove to enhance the defensive strength and safety features of the suit, so as not to overshadow Stephen’s proficiency in the mystic arts as a means of protecting himself. As a result, they had both worked tirelessly to incorporate mystical energy into the powering system of the armour, combining technology and magic into one cohesive force, resulting in the second most powerful suit Tony had ever created since Mark 85, the armour he wore in the Battle for Earth. 

Stephen could scarcely explain the almost protective appreciation that rose in his chest as they had managed to merge the biggest parts of themselves into one suit of armour, enhanced beyond any working defensive weapon of similar size on Earth. Tony had made it to keep him safe, but it was also a symbolic creation of his love for Stephen, and the sorcerer had expressed his affectionate gratitude many times during the programming and designing process. Despite this, the armour felt less like a gift from Tony and more an amalgamated fusion of Tony’s heart and Stephen’s hand, technology and magic married into a fluid, powerful suit of gleaming silver armour. The armour had bound them together almost as much as their life force had, the physical manifestation of their relationship in the form of intuitive nanobots that Tony had carefully crafted with the sole purpose of protecting his wizard. If the demons in Stephen’s mind had ever made him doubt his importance in Tony’s life, those fears were quickly silenced anytime he had watched Tony bent over his work bench, caring hands working with unflagging vigour.

Standing in an open area of the concrete garage floor, Stephen was doing his best to stand still in the suit despite the humidity of the mid-June day. After letting the nanobots crawl over the sorcerer’s frame, Tony had powered the suit and its cooling system down, meaning Stephen was standing with his arms held out to the sides with sweat starting to bead on his forehead as Tony made minor adjustments to the armour’s outer layer. Levi was hovering and circling around them in mild concern, prodding at the device Tony was holding, their corners getting in the way occasionally like curious hands. Tony swatted them away with a gentle scolding and Levi went to terrorize Dum-E instead. The cloak and the robotic arm got along about as well as Harley and Peter did, happy to share the same space, but constantly antagonizing the hell out of one another.

“I thought it was supposed to be adaptive technology. You know, form-fitting?”, Stephen pointed out, suppressing a hiss as Tony worked the device in his hand over another tight spot. “That pinched.”

“You don’t need to tell me, Steph. The calibrater picks it up”, Tony replied dryly with a testy smirk. “Besides, it’s not an exact science yet, and it’s a new suit. Give him some time.”

“I can’t believe you call the suit a ‘he’”, Stephen scoffed softly, though they both knew he was endeared by Tony’s habit of assigning gender and personalities to his tech.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does VICTOR sound like an extremely buxom lady who’s a chronic smoker to you?”, Tony snarked back with a snort, prodding Stephen’s left shoulder with the calibrater. At the mention of the AI’s name, Levi landed on Stephen’s armoured shoulders with a jealous ripple, reminding the sorcerer how the relic was prone to acting like a five-year-old displaced by a new sibling, first with Taj and Jarvis, and now with VICTOR. 

“I can’t believe you made me an AI either”, Stephen replied, ignoring the question outright, though the annoyance he tried to portray just came off as loving exasperation. “I’ve told you that I don’t need an android co-pilot. Rhodey doesn’t have one, so obviously you listened to him.” Tony raised his brow in mild amusement as he adjusted the calibrater with a flick of a cybernetic finger.

“You’re not an Air Force pilot with decades of flights under his belt. Not like that matters if something goes wrong with the suit.” Something dark passed over Tony’s face as he froze before brushing past it quickly, and Stephen was reminded guiltily of Rhodey’s accident. “Besides, VICTOR is just for the suit”, Tony pointed out innocently. “And you don’t need to cart him around with you, though he can live in your watch if you want.”

“No”, Stephen replied calmly with a small smirk. This was a conversation they had gone over dozens of times in the past months, and he was reluctant to budge. Tony insisted that having an AI on his person at all times would serve as an added safety measure, but Stephen pointed out that his mastery of mystic arts was all the protection he needed. He would much rather rely on his own magical abilities than technology which was capable of malfunctioning, but Tony was hellbent on the reliability of his creations. Tony had also pointed out that Stephen’s magic wasn’t nearly as powerful as it used to be on account of the lost half of his life force, therefore drawing the conversation into uncomfortably, guilt-ridden territory. From then on, they tried to keep light any further discussion about the topic. 

“I can change his voice if that’s what you don’t like”, Tony offered almost off-handedly as he held Stephen’s armoured arm up, checking along the glistening silver surface with the nanobot calibrater. They had decided to forgo a paint job in order to get the kinks out of first, and also because neither of them could decide on a colour scheme.

“His voice is fine”, Stephen assured, glancing at Tony from the corner of his eye as he kept looking forward to keep the suit aligned properly. “It reminds me of Sinatra a bit, actually. You know, that kind of easy, soothing baritone?”

“Hmm, Ol’ Blue Eyes is fine, sure”, Tony said slyly, circling behind Stephen before ducking under his other arm to come chest-to-chest with him, a practically devious smirk having made its way onto his lips. “But what about if I changed it to my voice, hmm? I could whisper dirty stuff in your ear during fights. What do you think?”, Tony hummed, standing up on his tip toes to come eye-to-eye with Stephen, chest brushing the front of the armour as he analyzed the sorcerer’s reaction with a shrewd squint.

“I’m thinking I seriously don’t know how you fit your head into that helmet”, Stephen chuckled affectionately with a deep rumble in his chest, dipping his head slightly so Tony could brush their lips together.

“Nanotech, baby”, Tony purred with an impish smile, good hand rested on the chest of the armour as he landed another peck on the sorcerer’s lips before settling back down onto his heels. “So that’s a no on the voice change?”

“That’s a no”, Stephen confirmed regrettably, flexing the left hand of the armour after an approving nod from Tony.

“What do you say to a test flight then?”, Tony asked, and Stephen recognized the challenging glint in his good eye immediately, tossing the calibrating device between his hands as he appraised the sorcerer’s tall frame encased fluidly in liquid silver nanobots. Taking the bait, Stephen started to slowly flex his limbs at different angles to test for other tight spots.

“You think it’s ready?”, Stephen asked warily, feeling a sliver of apprehension work its way into his chest despite himself, testing the flexibility of the left shoulder. The only use the Iron Sorcerer suit had had so far were small tests in the garage, letting Stephen get used to the power and control of the repulsor boots more than anything as he hovered a few feet above the floor. Dum-E had been on standby for every session, while Tony had watched him almost proudly as Stephen’s mastery of controlling the armour grew with every use.

“The armour has been flight-ready for the past week, so really it’s a question as to whether or not you’re ready, Steph”, Tony replied easily, his faux arrogance almost covering up the underlying caring in his voice. The engineer tapped the arc reactor on his chest as his own armour trickled over his body like the crimson and gold tendrils of a growing plant. “It took me years to get this comfortable in the suits, but if the fight against the giant snakey thing in Greenwich taught us anything, it’s that you take to the armour more naturally than most.” Stephen was touched by the subtle praise, forcing his nerves down with an attempt at a confident smile.

“Let’s get to running, then”, the sorcerer nodded, Tony’s words from his first test flight in 2008 (the ones Stephen had been there for in different realities) running through his mind. Tony gave him that look he always did when he was reminding himself that Stephen had lived through realities and memories with him that Tony would never have himself. The look was a mixture of compassion and envy, quickly disguised by a lop-sided smirk as Tony stretched in the armour with his arms braced behind his head, groaning as he arched his back with a quiet whirr of adjusting nanobots.

“Ooh, she’s getting rusty, FRI. What do you say to a cruise over the lake, old girl?”

“Sounds like the armour isn’t the only thing getting rusty”, FRIDAY offered calmly to an affronted gasp from Tony.

“Excuse you, young lady!”, Tony huffed, not looking anywhere in particular as he spoke to the dis-attached voice of the AI, pulling each arm across his chest in turn as he stretched. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been doing plenty even outside of the armour.”

“Don’t encourage him, FRIDAY”, Stephen advised levelly before turning to Tony. “Did you say over the lake? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tony turned to him with a teasing look.

“I’d rather have you crash in the water than into a tree, Merlin”, he reasoned, and Stephen nodded in wary compliance, walking out onto the front lawn and powering the suit up, hovering a few feet above the grass as he braced himself with a hand on either side. 

“You awake, VICTOR?”, Stephen asked unsteadily as he tried to maintain his balance, levelling out with slight thrusts from his palm repulsors when necessary. Despite himself, he’d adapted to Tony’s way of speaking to the AI which made VICTOR seem almost human, initiating power up as if he were disturbing the suit technology from slumber.

“Always awake for you, Doctor. Initiating sequence for flight preparation”, the AI purred in a smooth, upper class British accent that Stephen hadn’t had the heart to comment on when Tony had first introduced them. Stephen knew how much Tony’s first AI had meant to him, and if he wanted to incorporate similarities from JARVIS into VICTOR, then Stephen would accept those subtle details gladly and without question. 

“Levi, can you do me a favour?”, Stephen asked, still hovering above the lawn as he brushed caring fingers over the sulking cloak’s collar. “Stay home and keep Jarvis safe with Taj? It would mean a lot to Tony and I.” The relic perked up considerably at the prospect of helping them both, though they seemed vaguely suspicious of Stephen’s intentions. Levi had been almost constantly shivering with the overbearing jealousy of feeling like they were being replaced at the sorcerer’s side by animals and AI alike, and Stephen was overwhelmed by self-condemnation, knowing he would have to make it up to them somehow as the cloak floated off his shoulders and into the house. All of the kids were elsewhere, Morgan at Pepper’s and the boys were busy with work and school, so there was no one else to alert to their plans.

While VICTOR took care of preparing the suit for flight, and making any last minute adjustments to the nanobot coding, Stephen focused on staying upright. Tony hadn’t added the extra flight stabilizers yet, since they were only for complex flying and twisting maneuvers in the first place, but Stephen battled with staying upright, his nerves overthrowing his balance.

“Just like in the workshop. There you go”, Tony soothed, hands reached up to brace the sorcerer’s armoured hips and help keep him upright, smiling up at Stephen’s strained, anxious face in reassurance. “Just breath, honey. You’ve got this.” Stephen forced himself to take several calming breaths as he adjusting to swaying a little, compensating for the energy of the boot repulsors forcing him off the ground. The best comparison to the feeling that Stephen could come up with was one of many hot childhood summers in Nebraska, the sideways swaying of the slack-line unsteady beneath his feet as he tried not to focus on the murky river below. Much like when he was a young boy, Stephen held his arms out to either side as he let his joints loosen, balancing and rocking with the pulsating energy beneath his feet.

“There you go”, Tony muttered with a proud smile. “It just takes practice. And it’s easier to control when the movements aren’t so restricted, like when you’re actually in flight. Ready to try?” 

“I think I can handle it”, Stephen nodded, heart pounding in his chest with nervous anticipation as Tony stepped back and took his hands away from the sorcerer’s hips, flipping his face plate down with a satisfying clang of metal.

“I know you can, Steph”, Tony encouraged, his voice coming through Stephen’s heads up display, sounding slightly more electronic as the sorcerer followed suit and lowered his mask. “We’re going to take it slow, but try following me over the lake. I’ll stay out of your way, so don’t worry too much about steering other than staying over the water.”

“I’m not going to crash, Tony”, Stephen snapped lightly, gasping a little as a sudden pulse of energy almost made him lose his balance. “I’ve flown Mark 85 before, remember? Though now I realize that’s not the most glowing endorsement on my part, since I nearly crashed a dozen times during that fight.” The soft chuckle that came through their comms pulled a reluctant smile over Stephen’s face.

“Come on, wizard. I have faith in you, just take it easy”, Tony said as he hovered up from the ground and leaned forward in his armour slowly, starting off steadily for Stephen’s sake. Stephen let his upper body fall forward as he kept his sights locked on the red and gold armour in front of him, surprised by the ease with which he was able to stay under control while accelerating. The sunlight glinting off the water was kept out of his field of vision by the tint of the HUD through the eye slits, and Stephen focused on the automatic horizon lock as VICTOR initiated the cooling system unprompted. Stephen started off shakily, his heart pounding in his throat as he focused on checking his speed to remain in control while staying high enough above the water. As always when he was around any body of water, Stephen’s mind shifted unwillingly to thoughts of Donna, imaging that the murky blue-green could swallow up him or one of his family in a single ill-timed moment. Forcing such thoughts out of his mind, panic bubbled through Stephen’s chest when he looked up again to find that Tony wasn’t in front of him anymore, nothing but the clear, blue expanse of the lake rippling in front of him.

“Tony?”

“Hey, Merlin”, Tony called suddenly, his voice still coming through the HUD, but Stephen jolted in shock as the engineer hovered above him, brushing past his left shoulder in a bold blur of red and gold. Stephen scowled as the Iron Sorcerer suit made a dangerous dip down towards the water, but he was able to right it quickly, practically able to feel the teasing grin through Tony’s face plate.

“Are you _trying_ to make me crash now, you little firecracker?”, Stephen scolded, barely able to keep the amused chuckle out of his voice as he steadied himself before accelerating to keep up with Tony.

“Lighten up, baby cakes”, Tony purred lightly, rearing up and spinning around simultaneously to face Stephen as he hovered in place a few dozen feet over the water. “And I’m not gonna make you crash when I just finished adjusting the nanobots for your particular ass.” 

Stephen smirked softly. “Particular, hmm?” Tony seemed to know what was coming to him as he turned on a dime and surged forward through the sky, laughing raucously as Stephen nearly went head over heels when he tried to do the same. Revelling in the adrenaline of his heavily pounding heart, Stephen righted himself and took off a little more slowly before he started to pick up speed. The armour sliced through the air like a silver bullet, only buffeted by the wind slightly as Stephen followed in the tiny jet stream Tony had left in his wake, the engineer glancing over his shoulder as Stephen gained on him. They reached the other end of the lake by the time Stephen caught up to the crimson-gold armour, laughing with pure joy at how beautiful and free his partner looked as he dipped and looped through the sky almost lazily, completely in his element as he avoided the sorcerer easily. 

Tony banked sharply once he came within a couple dozen metres of the far shore and Stephen replicated the maneuver almost perfectly, something that had seemed to come almost naturally to him, even during the high-stakes fight in Greenwich three and a half months ago. With a newfound surge of confidence, Stephen dipped the front of his suit forward so he dove down and under the Iron Man armour, barrelling low over the water until he gained the lead with a triumphant laugh.

“Oh, someone’s getting cocky now, eh?”, Tony chuckled, though he was clearly pleased by the sorcerer’s quick progress as he let him stay ahead.

“Don’t mistake ignorance for cockiness, Tony”, Stephen quipped back despite the warm sense of accomplishment rolling through his chest pleasantly.

“Ignorance or arrogance? Should I get you a thesaurus for your birthday?”, Tony teased, rolling onto his side and trailing a hand through the water as he dipped his armour lower to trail the Iron Sorcerer suit. Stephen’s only response was to square himself in front of Tony as he sped up a little, letting the toes of the armour drag in the water and sending up a fine wave that sprayed Tony directly in the face.

“Stephanie!”

“You deserved it”, Stephen countered with a gleeful grin as he suddenly surged upward in a glorious, powerful arc before Tony could retaliate, water droplets dancing on the silver body of the armour like thousands of diamonds in the afternoon sun. Stephen heard the familiar sound of Tony’s thrusters powering up as he trailed him further up into the sky, all fear and trepidation dissolving as Stephen felt himself relaxing into the armour. He gradually felt as though he was becoming one with the vibranium nanobots, the suit obeying him almost intuitively, a wide grin permanently lodged on his face as Tony danced around him easily in a loose upward spiral.

“That’s high enough, babe. Please”, Tony said suddenly, the tension in his voice bleeding through their comms and Stephen stopped his ascent immediately, dropping back down to where Tony had stopped several thousand feet below him. Tony hovered in midair with his arms braced on either side of himself, face plate lifted to reveal one blue and one brown eye wide and filled with dread. Stephen felt a sliver of guilt work its way into his chest. The last thing Tony needed was flashbacks and a PTSD attack of when Rhodey had dropped to his near death.

“Sorry”, Stephen said as he flipped his own face plate up, panting slightly from his own exhilaration. “I won’t go any higher, I just…wow.” Stephen couldn’t help the stupid, overjoyed grin still plastered to his face, his cheeks hurting from smiling as Tony looked at him adoringly. “This is so incredible, Tony. It’s nothing like flying with Levi, I-.” Stephen nearly toppled himself over backwards with the reverberating force of his own excitement, catching himself with one hand thrown back to counteract his balance, only to almost collide with Tony as the engineer stopped him with gentle hands on his shoulders, repulsor gloves turned off as he held him.

“Still getting the hang of it”, Stephen grinned sheepishly in way of an apology, cutting the energy to his gloves as well so he could brace his hands on Tony’s shoulders. 

“You’re doing amazing”, Tony beamed proudly, chuckling as he shook his head affectionately. “Absolutely perfect, Stephers. It’s like you were made to fly one of these.” Stephen grumbled bashfully as Tony pressed a soft, scruffy kiss to his cheek.

“I wouldn’t go that far. And it probably helps that it was custom made for me.”

“Now you’re just being overly modest”, Tony pointed out gently, drawing him closer to brush their lips together, their chest plates pressed against one another as he drew the sorcerer in against his mouth passionately. Stephen smiled softly in the kiss, adrenaline and love pulsing in his veins as he savoured the metallic, musk-tinged scent encompassing them both. Stephen felt all of his partner’s tension dissolving in their shared touch, realizing how much stress he had just involuntarily caused him by flying so high, capturing his lips tenderly, kissing him over and over in silent apology. Tony looked almost dizzy with relief when they both pulled back, still holding on to the sorcerer’s shoulders with a soft, hazy look in his eyes.

“Thank you”, he muttered quietly next to Stephen’s lips, incredible knowing and comfort passing between them as Stephen focused on the stars in the brandy-copper galaxy of his good eye, noticing the flecks of gold near the centre of his iris. 

“I should be the one thanking you”, Stephen countered softly, chuckling as Tony pushed him away in playful rebuttal. “Thank you, Tony. This is just amazing.”

“What’s amazing is your ability to make everything sappy”, FRIDAY commented idly, her musical lilt dry with amusement. Stephen felt more than heard a flicker of mechanical acknowledgment from his own suit, and if an AI could chuckle, he was pretty sure VICTOR had done just that. Stephen laughed along with them, his heart still light and free with joy, but Tony seemed less amused.

“No one asked for your opinion, FRI”, Tony snarked lightly, embarrassment washing over his expression.

“Fine, but as sappy as it is, I still can’t believe you made this for me”, Stephen grinned, delighting in the ability to just say whatever was on his tongue, love for this creative, genius, caring man flowing through every nerve in his body.

“Stop it”, Tony growled, never good with acknowledging thanks or recognition as he closed his helmet with a dull clang, the discomfort in his voice masked by the playfully condescending tone he tried to adopt. “I only made a suit for you because I’m a paranoid, overbearing boyfriend, remember?” Before Stephen could answer, Tony tilted away from him with a sudden thrust from the repulsors, arcing backwards before free-falling towards the blue-green water below them. Watching his partner fall like a blood and gold stone through the air, Stephen’s heart dropped into his stomach as Tony pulled up only a couple dozen feet from the glittering surface of the lake, water spraying behind the armour in his wake as he skimmed the waves fearlessly. 

Stephen made his way back to the garage with a little less panache, easing down towards the lawn carefully as he hovered beside Tony. Asking VICTOR to disengage the armour (verbal commands weren’t necessary, but Tony thought it would help him get used to how the suit worked), Stephen landed on the grass as the nanobots fluidly crawled back into the casing on his chest. Tony had designed his arc reactor in the shape of the Eye of Agomotto, for sentimentality’s sake if nothing else, attached to a strap-on chest plate for now, but Tony figured that he’d be able to make it more akin to the original Eye in the final design, to be hung like a pendant around the sorcerer’s neck so Stephen could wear it over his battle robes.

Stephen struggled to keep his feet as the armour retracted completely, his legs almost buckling under his weight as his muscles had been continuously tensed during flight. It was his first time using the armour for longer than ten minutes in a horizontal flight position, and Stephen was shocked by the full body workout that came with steering and controlling the suit, his thighs and abdomen aching even after their short trip up and down the lake.

“You alright there, Stephers? Harder than it looks, huh?”, Tony prodded with a sly grin, disengaging his armour as he walked towards the sorcerer smoothly. “It usually helps if you can keep your feet after landing.”

“Hey, it was smoother than your first landing”, Stephen huffed, laughing breathlessly as he leaned forward on his knees, his legs shaking slightly as his abdominal muscles burned with an almost pleasant ache. “For the love of the Vishanti, now I know how you got all that muscle”, he sighed, feeling Tony’s hands on his shoulders, pulling him up into a vaguely standing position.

“Hey, come here, Iron Sorcerer. You did a really good job, especially for your first real flight”, Tony chuckled softly, drawing him into his arms and contentedly leaning his cheek against Stephen’s hair, hugging him tightly. “I love you.” Stephen slumped almost bonelessly against his partner’s sturdy frame, arms looped around his shoulders as he let himself be held up by strong arms of muscle and vibranium around his ribcage.

“I love you too, Iron Man”, Stephen teased, face pressed against the warmth of Tony’s neck and his nanotech-infused undershirt, pressing a quick kiss to the exposed scarred side of his neck. Holding on to one another with the simple gratitude of just being together, Stephen was lost in Tony’s bittersweet coffee scent and the comfort of each other’s presence, their life force bound together as seamlessly as the magically-powered armour they had created together. 

*****

Mid June meant a lot of things for the Stark-Strange-Parker-Keener household, the most significant being Peter’s high school graduation, five years late as it was for many teenagers who had been a part of the Decimation. 

After several weeks of late night, caffeine-fuelled studying sessions (interspersed with struggling to balance final projects and extensive research papers), many with the recruited study help of Tony and Stephen, Peter had passed all of his exams with flying colours. No one was surprised by his accomplishment expect for Peter, who had a knack for doubting himself that almost rivalled Tony’s self-deprecating habits. Despite his almost bashful bewilderment, Peter accepted the offer of a dinner out in celebration, though Tony probably wouldn’t have given him much choice either way as he never passed up a chance to brag about his genius kid. Disparaging his dad’s attempts to proudly kiss his cheek every ten minutes, Peter didn’t feel quite as guilty as he usually did for finishing off an entire meat lover’s pizza on his own as his nerve-ridden enhanced immune system finally started to relax. This gave him the chance to actually enjoy an early dinner out at a little, homey pizza joint in Queens with his two sets of parents and two pseudo siblings, as Tony had dubbed them recently. Morgan was decidedly more pleased by this development in their relationship title than Harley was. 

It took some bartering and a playful, left-handed arm wrestle after dinner, but Tony finally convinced May to let their boy spend the weekend at the cabin, though Peter figured he would be sleeping for two days straight no matter where he spent the weekend. Bidding a goodnight to May and Happy, Peter practically had to be held upright as he was walked through a gateway, braced on either side by his dads to save him from collapsing with relieved exhaustion, though Stephen drew the line at using a levitating spell to keep the teen standing. Levi wrapped one side of themselves around Peter’s shoulders instead as they all stumbled side by side into the cabin. The cloak held him pressed up against Stephen’s side which the sorcerer didn’t seem to mind, and Peter was too tired to protest either way as they walked into the living room side by side.

“Time for a nap, spiderling?”, Stephen chucked teasingly, but Peter’s exhaustion didn’t even let him be embarrassed as they dropped onto the sofa together with Levi still cocooned around them both. Peter was slightly surprised but pleased when Stephen drew him in with an arm around his shoulders to lean against his chest, and Peter was too fuzzy-headed and jello-limbed to do anything but snuggle into the sorcerer’s side gratefully. Cheek smushed against his father figure’s chest, Peter’s eyes had already drifted shut involuntarily as sleep pulled at his mind heavily. He was vaguely aware of gentle, trembling fingers idly trailing through his hair as he heard Tony’s voice and felt his shoes being pulled off his feet carefully. Stephen’s response to whatever Tony had said was a deep, rumbling vibration beside Peter’s ear, though he didn’t pay attention to the words, just revelling in the soothing comfort of the sorcerer’s baritone as the teen felt his heart rate slowing into a relaxed thrum, succumbing to a much needed nap. 

———

Peter’s first homecoming dance had been a disaster, to say the least.

Now, seeing as he was graduating from Midtown Tech, Peter was determined to make his prom plans go a little more smoothly than having an abandoned warehouse dropped on him by his girlfriend’s dad. Not that he had a girlfriend at the moment. He and MJ had planned to go as friends since Ned had a date, despite MJ’s protests that the whole ordeal of yet another high school dance was rather juvenile now that they were being sent off into the real world. Her claim was that she was only going so Peter wouldn’t be lonely, but when he convinced her to go dress shopping with him, Peter caught the way her beautiful dark eyes lit up a little as she spotted a simple navy blue dress. 

Peter felt his breath catch when she stepped out of the change room despite the slight scowl on her face as she stood in front of the mirror and appraised her reflection. The dress had a short v neck held up by spaghetti straps on MJ’s slim shoulders, the embroidered waist offsetting the way the silky fabric swept down her long, lean legs. Peter was having trouble remembering how to breathe as he gave the garment due consideration without staring, his heart doing weird flip flops in his chest despite the almost slumped, rigid set of MJ’s shoulders, her hair in a half done-up ponytail which was suffering severely from the humidity outside.

“Are you going to get that one?”, Peter asked hopefully, heart thumping at the way she glanced over her shoulder at him with a smirk.

“You’re not hard to please, are you? I haven’t even tried on any others.” MJ paused with a self-disgusted frown. “What am I saying? Let’s get out of here.”

Peter spent the three days post exams in a sleep-deprived stupor until he had napped himself back to an almost human state of being. The night of his prom saw he, May, Happy, Ned, Tony, and Stephen crammed into the living room of their Queens apartment while the four adults offered their various areas of expertise in helping the boys prepare for their prom. Tony and May gave suggestions on their hair, though Peter was quickly disconcerted by the amount of hair gel his dad was suggesting. Tony and Happy had their usual wry banter over who was better equipped to teach the teens how to tie a tie, the engineer even offering a selection of complicated tie knots until May stepped in and gave both teens a refresher from their homecoming outfit preparation. Half an hour later, Tony was still trying to convince Peter to try any knot but a Windsor, while the Doc mainly stayed sprawled sideways across an armchair, glass of wine in hand as he offered suggestions on the various matching ties and pocket squares that Tony had proffered. 

Peter was grateful that he had four parents to help him get ready for his prom, trying to hide the anxiety that was slowly building up in his chest, fearful that it would show on his face and come off as unappreciative for his parent figures’ aid in such foreign territory. He must have been doing a terrible job of hiding it, though, as Tony pulled him off to the side near the kitchen threshold, raising a brow with that knowing look he had sometimes.

“What?”, Peter asked, squirming under his dad’s sturdy vibranium and natural grip on his shoulders as anxiety bubbled in his chest.

“You can tell us to piss off if we’re being too much, kid. I know the Doc is being overbearing”, Tony said with a playfully judging squint thrown in the sorcerer’s direction. 

“No”, Peter said quickly, immediately feeling guilty. “I love you guys and I’m glad you’re helping, I’m just uh, you know…just kind of…”

“Scared out of your mind?”, Tony supplied with a sly grin despite the sympathetic softness in his eyes. “So nervous about dancing with that grouchy girl of yours that you feel like you’re going to pass out?”

“Y-yeah, that’s-. Yep, that pretty much sums it up”, Peter admitted ruefully, both comforted and disarmed by Tony’s perceptive abilities when it came to figuring out what was going on in his kid’s head.

“You’re young, okay?”, Tony said, leaning back against the threshold with his arms crossed. “You guys are fresh out of high school, so nothing has to be do or die yet, okay? You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” He chuckled to himself, jerking a thumb towards the living room. “Look at me and the Doc; old as snot and we only just now found each other and got our shit together.” Peter nodded quietly with a small smile, but his mind was still reeling with anxiety.

“But…but how do you know…that someone is the right person?” Tony raised his brow slightly with the profundity of the question, exhaling deeply before a moment of quiet fell between them.

“You just know”, Tony muttered after a beat of silence, eyes softening as his gaze fell on the sorcerer who was laughing and sipping wine with May on the couch. 

“Really?”, Peter asked with an almost relieved flutter of hope in his chest.

“Nah, I’m kidding”, Tony shook his head with a regretful look. “That’s a cliche answer. Most people don’t swap souls before they’re even dating.” He laughed dryly, running a hand through his hair as he thought, and Peter could see a rare sort of genuine, emotional vulnerability in his good eye. “Uh, honestly, kid. You don’t know. You can think you’ve found your forever home with someone and it ends up not working out.” Tony trailed off, an odd look in his eyes as he shook his head slightly, visibly pushing himself past his own thoughts. “If they make you feel safe, if they make you feel stupidly happy, or like time stops when you’re together, then try not to second guess yourself and just go for it.” He shrugged, reaching up to toy with his Eye of Agomotto pendant. “Life is uncertain, though. There’s no way to know for sure, so most of the time you just have to go with your gut.” The light seemed to change with the mood of their conversation and the vulnerable openness in Tony’s eyes disappeared to be replaced with the usual easy grin. “But like I said, you’re both young. Just be yourself and have fun tonight.” 

Peter nodded again. He could probably manage that.

After accepting a hug and another quick tie adjustment from Tony, Peter returned to the living room to find that Ned’s date had just texted to cancel on him. After a resounding expression of sympathy from all the adults, Tony patched over the situation in the best way he know how, offering Peter the GT-R keys to drive to their prom instead of the original plan of Tony dropping them off. After one last round of tie adjustments, compliments, and ‘thank you’s from Peter and Ned, the two teens finally made it out the door and into the gleaming black mock sports car.

Their prom venue was swamped in fairly lights and lit lanterns by the time they pulled up in the growing dusk, trees and hedges lost in a scattered mantle of golden pinpricks of light. MJ had gotten a ride with some friends, ambushing the two teens at the drinks table, her hair done in a halo made of forget-me-nots and a headband of delicate gold stars, giving off unimpressed Cleopatra vibes as her midnight blue dress hung silkily off her lean frame. Peter babbled incoherently for a few minutes before Ned saved him, explaining to MJ about their predicament with his date ditching him last minute. MJ, deceiving courteous as usual, offered for him to join her and Peter for the night as a platonic trio. Despite the help of her usual poker face, Peter would have required far poorer eyesight than his enhanced senses gave him to miss the way disappointment flickered through those dark hazel eyes, though Ned certainly didn’t notice as they began to passively comment on the travesties that were some of the dresses of their classmates. 

Ample finger food, idle small talk, dinner, and a series of impromptu toasts all went by in a blur for Peter as he did his best to remember to tear his eyes away from MJ occasionally throughout the night. She was a brusquely elegant force, melting Peter’s heart with every tiny glance. The three of them danced together before Ned broke off to hold up the wall for a breather, allowing his two secretly crushing friends a moment to themselves as a slow song came on. Swaying in each other’s arms, she was dark and radiant under the low, golden light, and Peter was sure his cheeks were flushed bright pink, but MJ didn’t give any indication to suggest that this was true. Instead, she dipped her head to whisper in Peter’s ear, telling him to look behind himself at the pink monstrosity Rachel was wearing. She pulled back with a soft, joyful vibrance in her eyes that made Peter’s chest ache pleasantly as he barely remembered to glance over his shoulder, quickly looking back to MJ with a shy smile as time stopped.

_Oh, God. _

He was never going to tease Tony about make puppy eyes at the Doc ever again.

———

High school graduation wasn’t nearly as momentous as everyone made it out to be.

Walking across the auditorium stage in a gown and a sash that kept slipping off to awkwardly shake hands with the principal, only to receive an empty envelope for show, was rather anti-climatic. Pausing for the sake of pictures, Peter couldn’t see any farther into the crowd than the front row, but he knew that his entire family was out there, Tony and May no doubt furiously taking pictures as they had promised they would. But after the ceremony, when Peter had been handed his real diploma backstage while still wearing the itchy gown, he walked out the side doors of the auditorium and felt his chest swell with emotion at seeing his family waiting for him amongst the sea of people. In one short year, their little family had grown from being just he and May in that little apartment in Queens, to Peter being overwhelmed by the unconditional love and support of six other people who he knew would be in his life forever. 

“Hey, Parker, you’re a disappointment to us all for not tripping on the stage. I thought for sure I was going to catch a YouTube-worthy video tonight”, Harley called with a wry grin, balancing Morgan on his shoulders as she clapped gleefully at Peter’s entrance.

“Thanks for your faith in me, but I have had practice walking before, Keener. Almost eighteen years worth”, Peter quipped back as he walked up to the group with a bright, misty-eyed smile, and May’s arms were around him before he could even speak. Peter let himself press his face against her long, vanilla-scented hair like when he was a little kid, his arms wrapped around her waist as they hugged each other tightly. Overwhelmed with emotion, Peter knew that he wouldn’t have made it this far without May, and he also knew he that, no matter who else was a part of their little, mismatched family, he owed his life and his entire future to this woman. Heart beating with sentimental joy, Peter kissed his aunt’s cheek wetly before muttering beside her ear.

“Did Dad cry?”

“Which one?”

Laughing to himself, Peter pulled back to be met by the overwhelmed-but-trying-to-hide-it faces of the three men (Rhodey was stuck in a meeting, but had promised he would be down later) who cared about him more than anything else. Okay, Happy and the Doc were trying to pull a stoic front over their obviously misty eyes, but Tony was an emotional mess, tears running down his face as Stephen rubbed his shoulder soothingly.

“Alright, dear. There’s no need for waterworks, you’re making a scene”, the sorcerer muttered gently while hugging Tony against his side, but to no avail. It broke something in Peter’s chest to see Tony release the steel trap he usually kept on his emotions, suddenly overcome by the nonsensical need to protect his father figure in that moment.

“Come here, old man”, Peter teased, holding his arms out as Tony stepped forward gratefully to wrap him up in a bear hug, good and blind eyes both still welling with tears. 

“I’m so freaking proud of you, kid”, Tony mumbled wetly beside his ear, turning his head to kiss Peter’s cheek quickly before embracing him tightly again. “You deserve this so much. You’re going to do so many amazing things.”

“Thanks, you big softy. Are you trying to make me cry?”, Peter chuckled tearfully as he held his dad and let himself be held in turn, feeling like a small fifteen-year-old again desperate for a misconstrued embrace while opening a car door from his life-long hero. Now he felt those strong arms of metal and muscle both wrapped around him tightly, rocking side to side slowly as he held the man who had saved his life, the man who had saved the universe. Tony felt small and old in his arms, protectiveness surging through the teen’s chest until Peter reminded himself that he didn’t need to grow up just yet, relaxing against his dad’s sturdy softness to lose himself in the moment. Pulling back to wipe Tony’s tears from his cheeks gently, Peter was overwhelmed by the immense pride held in his brown and blind eyes. The look on his face told Peter that he was remembering those five years where he had mourned him, mourned the son who’d been taken from him before either of them could even realize how much they meant to each other. Now, over six years later, the look in Tony’s eyes said that he could scarcely believe that they were here, together, back in each other’s arms as they should be. 

Luckily, May cajoled them all into taking pictures before everyone got too red-eyed just as Ned and his family came up to join them, both boys receiving congratulations all around from the other’s family. Ned offered to take the pictures so May could be in them too, resulting in a chaotic disarray of group shots, and a few pictures of Peter with each couple and then each individual parent. One of the last pictures was of him standing between Tony and May while they both had an arm around his shoulders, Peter’s fingers raised in bunny ears behind both their heads, revelling in the safety he felt between them as he did his best to smile through his impending tears. Morgan insisted on her own picture with Peter, arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her cheek. Peter teased Harley about wanting a picture with him too, though the twenty-one-year-old would only get in front of the camera if he had Morgan on his shoulders. Peter was most surprised when, after his solo picture with Happy, the former bodyguard turned and wrapped both burly arms around him in a solid embrace, the teen’s cheeks tear-stained and pressed against the front of his uncle’s suit as he felt a traitorous surge of emotion pummel through his chest.

“Don’t you cry all over me too”, Peter croaked with a warbled laugh as he clung to Happy’s back with an almost intense gratitude, fingers bunched in his suit jacket. Their relationship had taken leaps and bounds over the course of the last year, a far cry from the rambling voicemails of seven years ago, and Peter’s only regret was that they hadn’t been able to spend more time with each other before he went to university. 

“Yeah, well…no promises”, Happy said huskily before pulling back, wiping his cheeks hastily. Swiping at his own eyes quickly, Peter was glad for the distraction of MJ coming up, complaining about the itchy gowns with he and Ned before a contemplative silence fell between the three of them. It seemed to dawn on the three of them simultaneously once again that, after their Europe trip next month, their lives would be split in three different directions and it would be so much harder to see each other, especially with Peter all the way in Massachusetts. Managing to lighten the mood with an inside joke, Peter initiated pulling them into an easy group hug, forehead pressed against MJ’s curls while Ned’s one arm was wrapped around his back. 

One of the teachers who had helped conduct the ceremony came out soon after to direct all the graduates outside to the front of the school for an official photograph. Peter was herded out alongside his friends with all the other students and arranged in neat rows by height, catching a smirk from MJ when she was put in the row behind him. The photographer finally arranged them all to his liking only for the moment to be crashed by the War Machine armour, gleaming black and silver as it surged down and landed on the pavement to a clamorous cheer from the group of graduates. Peter grimaced in embarrassment when Rhodey flipped his mask up and gave him a quick salute before walking over to where Tony was rolling his eyes, scolding his friend for being a drama queen

The pictures were finally taken, topped off by the traditional cap-throwing picture as all the graduates cheered. Many of them had been victims of the Decimation, making it an even greater relief for this particular group of teens to finally graduate. In amongst the bustling group of his classmates, Peter looked for his cap half-heartedly before selecting one at random, brow furrowing as the cap was tugged out from under his reaching fingers by an invisible force. The cap danced through the air with sparks of gold lifting it off the ground, leaving Peter to chase it for several feet before he stopped with a frown. His gaze followed the floating path of the polyester cap until his eyes met those of the sorcerer standing in his black suit like a pillar of dark magic, mouth quirked mischievously as golden energy danced around his fingers. 

“I haven’t gotten my hug yet”, Stephen explained as he held the cap flat on the tips of his fingers like a waiter carrying a tray. Peter shook his head affectionately as he walked the rest of the way over to the taller man. He took the cap back from him with a decisive smirk, huffing slightly as he let himself be pulled in by protective arms, nestled securely against the sorcerer’s broad chest.

“You know, normal people just ask for a hug”, Peter mused even as he relaxed in the Doc’s calming presence, feeling a low chuckle rumble through the sorcerer’s chest.

“Well, I’ve always been a little strange”, Stephen pointed out matter-of-factly, grinning as Peter pulled back to give him an unimpressed look. “But for real, spiderling”, he said, voice softening as he kept gentle, shaking hands braced on Peter’s shoulders. “I may not be bawling my eyes out like your dad, but I’m very proud of you.”

“Oh, come on, you cried a little bit. I know you did.”

“No, I’ll save that for when you graduate from MIT with your doctorate”, the sorcerer winked smoothly, reminding him of their conversation at the MIT open house. Revelling in the knowing looked they shared, Peter grinned to himself as the Doc hooked an arm around his shoulders as they walked side by side to rejoin their family. 

Peter received a hearty congratulations from Rhodey, to which he respectfully thanked him before the teen was ushered back into the school to return his cap and gown. Peter ran into Ned and MJ again once they had been rid of their itchy gowns, promising to meet up sometime that weekend before they parted ways and returned to their respective families. Walking back out to the front of the school, Peter found Harley waiting for him to tell him that everyone else had gone to the cars, and there was already a debate as to where they were going to eat out. Following the older boy towards the parking lot, Peter felt a sudden wave of nostalgia wash over him like he would have only ever expected to see described in a dramatic novel. 

His acceptance letter to MIT from two months ago hadn't seemed real until that moment, walking out those front doors for what would probably be the last time. Peter stopped and turned to take in the sight of the building, lost in a moment of thoughtful reverie until Harley whipped his shoulder with his own discarded tie, urging Peter to get his ass moving so they could go out for dinner already. Tie flapping over his shoulder as he jogged to race Harley for shotgun, Peter knew he would miss the new normalcy his family had found, but he was prepared for anything the future would throw at him as long as he had these people in his life.

*****

Tony sighed dramatically, bored as he lay sprawled on one of the massive, ornate daybeds on the first floor of the Sanctum. 

He and Stephen had been tucked away in one of the reading nooks off the front foyer of the Sanctum since earlier that morning, Tony keeping himself busy and keeping the sorcerer company as he did some research. It was a quiet Saturday a few days after Peter’s graduation ceremony, and Tony had decided to swing by the Sanctum on his way from dropping Morgan off at her mom’s townhouse. Stephen explained that he had work to finish, something to do with old protection runes that had been wearing off in certain magical hotspots around the world, something that Tony didn’t understand fully, but he could determine the task’s importance by the grim set of Stephen’s mouth. Kissing the worry lines on his partner’s forehead, Tony had then claimed a spot on the daybed while Stephen anchored himself in a worn velvet armchair, surrounded by piles of old books that he was searching through diligently.

They spent the lazy, sun-filtered hours in the comfortable sitting room on the main floor, content with the quiet comfort of one another’s company as they worked. Tony managed to fill the morning with finishing elements of the Iron Sorcerer armour, pulling up the programming statistics for the nanobots on his tablet and tweaking them remotely. After he was satisfied that the armour was as finished as it was going to get (besides a paint job), Tony switched to looking over some of the university courses that Peter had been mulling over signing up for, sending the kid a video message with his opinions about which he would find most useful to take. 

It was mid afternoon by the time Tony had run out of things to do, even finalizing the design for a surprise project he was working on for Peter’s birthday, setting his tablet down on the table when he was done and gazing over at the sorcerer fondly. Stephen hadn’t moved from his spot on the chair in the past several hours, a stony pillar of concentration as an ancient, dusty text was held in front of him at eye level by a levitation spell. Tony could see the rigid tension in the lines of his shoulders even under Levi (who had been even clingier than usual), admiring the way the warm light highlighted the sorcerer’s sharp features. He hated to see his partner so stressed, and figured it was about time that Stephen took a break, though he realized how hypocritical he felt even thinking this, silently thanking Rhodey for his patience with him all these years. Attempting to catch the sorcerer’s eye, Tony moaned sleepily, stretching out on the day bed as seductively as he could manage in an old AC/DC t shirt and jeans.

“Stephaniiiiie.”

“No.”

“Come give me attention.”

“Not right now. I’m trying to work”, Stephen answer distractedly, his clear, green eyes still flitting over the magically suspended page in front of him. 

“You’ve been sitting in one spot all day, Dalai Lama”, Tony reasoned gently, though he barely had a leg to stand on considering his obsessive tinkering habits that Stephen knew about. “You need to stand up, do something else for a little bit. Have you even eaten anything today?

“Pot. Kettle”, Stephen responded, pointing at Tony and them himself respectively, still without looking over at the engineer. Tony sighed softly, knowing he was in no position to critique the sorcerer’s work habits. He was considering getting up to sit in Stephen’s lap for distractive purposes when there was a sudden loud knock at the front door, Tony’s heart hammering in his chest as he looked around quickly to glare at the resounding sound. The Sanctum rarely had visitors.

“You expecting someone, Dumbledore?”, Tony asked, standing and making for the door when Stephen made no indication of doing so. “Maybe some kids got their Hogwarts letters and are here to start the term?”

“Just see who it is, please”, Stephen sighed, though he shook his head with affectionate exasperation. Tony chuckled to himself as he pulled the heavy door open by its ornate handle, nearly bowled over by shock when he saw who was on the other side. 

Bruce and Thor.

Tony was almost knocked over again with the force of Levi charging onto his shoulders protectively, engulfing his body like an octopus with their prey, and clinging to him tightly, collar stiff as if daring either of the men on the stoop to make a move. Tony immediately reached up to run a soothing hand over the fabric, patting the cloak as he met the eyes of two of his oldest friends.

“Hey, Tony. It’s been a while”, Bruce grinned at him, standing on the steps of the Sanctum while toying with the sleeve of his button down, nearly overshadowed by the hulking form of the Asgardian god standing behind him. Thor smiled and waggled his fingers in a friendly wave, having adopted a hippie lumberjack look since Tony had last seen him, complete with a messy man bun and a flannel. Tony could only gape stupidly for several moments, catching flies as he took in the sight of the now noticeably human-sized, non-green Bruce, looking as deceivingly non-threatening as ever. 

The last he had seen of his former teammates was when they had visited him back at the Wakandan hospital right after his Snap. Bruce would have normally been content to stay in Wakanda and tinker and research with Shuri, but something in the physicist had changed since his Snap and his part in the Battle for Earth. He had still been grappling with feelings of unrest in terms of his current arrangement with the Hulk, still in search of different answers, and gratefully took up the invitation extended to him by the Guardians to travel space with them and Thor.

Not that Tony had been conscious for much of this in the days following his Snap, but he and the physicist had kept in casual contact in the past year, mostly with Bruce telling him about his recent research, but also keeping each other updated on their healing from their respective Snaps and the development of their new romantic relationships. And apparently Bruce had found the answers he was looking for.

“You’re human-sized again, Brucie”, Tony finally managed to sputter out, hands held up in bewilderment as he took in the sight of his friend. “What the heck happened?” Bruce chuckled bashfully, rubbing his neck awkwardly as he glanced back at Thor who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Turns out I just had to find the right type of science to help. I made a sort serum with help from some new friends, so the big guy and I were able to come to a different kind of agreement”, Bruce explained, his joy at this development apparent as he seemed more comfortable in his own skin than Tony had ever seen him.

“That’s incredible”, Tony smiled, genuine appreciation in his voice. “I’d love to hear more about that, if you have time.” At their responding nods, Tony ushered them inside since he knew that they had both been in the Sanctum before, and there wouldn’t be any protection spells against them entering. Closing the door as he invited them into the foyer, Tony spared a nervous smile to Thor who was being uncharacteristically quiet and patient, maybe a virtue of spending over a year in space with the man he loved, a certified expert on emotion-control. 

“I think we’ve given him a bit of a shock”, Thor observed shrewdly with a laugh, his mismatched gaze flickering over Tony with an amused glimmer. Thor looked much the same as he had when Tony had last seen him, but significantly happier. The Asgardian god hadn’t lost much weight, as far as Tony could tell, but he carried it well, at least much better than he had over a year ago. No longer was he carrying a hundred or so odd pounds of guilt and depression, but instead it was a comfortable weight that made him seem as big and vibrant as the sun when he let out a booming laugh.

“Yeah, sorry for dropping in like this, Tony”, Bruce started to explain apologetically. “I know we haven’t visited or anything in the past year, but we’ve just been travelling around so much and everything, we haven’t been close to Earth until now, and-.” Tony cut off his friend’s guilty explanation as he pulled him into a hug, grateful to hear the attempt at an apology anyway. That’s how normal people acted, acknowledging that a significant amount of time had passed without checking up on each other, as opposed to immediately demanding things from Tony as usual. In comparison to having Steve and Natasha ambush him at the cabin two months ago, Tony was ecstatic to see his two other former teammates (admittedly, he sometimes forgot Clint existed).

Pulling back from hugging Bruce, Tony felt his life force stir in response to Stephen approaching, giving the sorcerer a wide, almost apologetic grin as he remembered his partner’s one rather turbulent interaction with the Asgardian he had just invited into his foyer. Usually, Stephen’s main qualm with Thor was the existence of his adoptive brother on Earth, but Loki had proven himself a changed person after fighting on their side in the Battle for Earth. 

“Doctor Banner”, Stephen greeted with a respectful nod, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to address the Asgardian. “Thor.” Bruce smiled nervously in response as he sensed the tension between his and Tony’s partners, though Thor just seemed amused by the sorcerer’s prickly demeanour.

“Greetings, wizard. No need to scowl like one of the seven demons of Oshtur, I don’t have Loki hidden in my pocket.” Bruce glanced between them uncertainly, but Tony just watched with impish delight (Levi still wrapped protectively around his shoulders) as the sorcerer shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance. 

“As long as he doesn’t leave New Asgard, I’m not overly bothered by what Loki’s doing”, Stephen relayed with a wry grin. “I have much more important things to worry about at the moment.” His eyes drifted to Tony almost subconsciously and Thor noticed their split second of eye contact, grinning deviously as he sauntered over to stand beside the engineer.

“You can handle this one, can you, wizard?”, Thor chuckled, reaching out to clap Tony on the shoulder. “Bruce told me that you two have-.” The Asgardian’s words were cut off as a crimson snake of fabric darted out to wrap around his wrist, squeezing tightly as Levi lunged for Thor’s neck. 

“Levi, no! He’s a friend!”, Tony said quickly, the slick, red fabric slipping through his fingertips as he reached out to stop them. Stephen silently stopped the cloak with a spell before they could even touch the god, the levitation spell straining with sparks of gold energy against Levi’s strength as the sorcerer pulled them back towards Tony. Tony immediately wrapped his arms around the cloak, feeling them shiver against him in protective rage while Thor had barely had time to register what had happened, brows raised as he looked between Tony and the cloak.

“I’m sorry, they’re not usually like that”, Tony apologized, collecting Levi against his chest while he tried to calm their agitated writhing, looking down at their collar as if looking someone in the eyes. “What are you doing, Lev? Calm down. They’re friends, you saw me hug Bruce, didn’t you?”

“Wait, the cape is alive?”, Bruce asked, still stunned as he came to stand beside Thor, who seemed more interested in Levi than afraid. 

“Cloak”, Stephen corrected coolly, gesturing for the two men to follow him to the sitting room he and Tony had spent the morning in. “Why don’t we go sit while Tony has a word with them?”, the sorcerer suggested with a raised brow, and the cloak shivered apologetically under his sharp gaze. Bruce followed the Sorcerer Supreme warily, giving him a wide berth, though Thor gave a forgiving smile to Tony and his protective relic before following suit. Tony returned the smile quickly before turning back to the cloak. Levi was always protective of he, Stephen, and their entire family, but their aggressively defensive display had thrown Tony off, still holding them tightly in his arms as he walked to a quiet corner of the foyer with them, on the opposite side of the enormous staircase to where the sitting room was.

“Hey, come here”, Tony said, wrestling the cloak gently away from him and holding them at arm’s length until they hovered in front of him shakily, collar drooping in embarrassment. “What’s gotten into you?” Levi shrugged broodily, their corners folded into stubborn arms crossed in front of themselves, and Tony tilted his head slightly in a reasoning manner. “You thought he was going to hurt me?”

Levi paused, and then nodded their collar reluctantly, gratitude flooding Tony’s chest in the process. 

“Listen, they’re not like the other Avengers, okay? We’ve still had our disagreements in the past, but they’re not going to hurt me or Stephen.” Tony sighed softly, running a hand down the cloak’s embroidered edge and they reciprocated with a shyly tender corner resting on his hand. “I trust them, and I know you will always protect me, but you don’t need to be so worried about me all the time. Same with Stephen. So, no strangling anyone, okay?”

Levi seemed to consider this at length, relenting with a reluctant shiver when Tony gave them a patiently chiding look. The disgruntled relic nodded their collar apologetically, wrapping around the engineer’s body in relief at Tony’s silent tap on his own shoulder, their ornately-embroidered fabric heavy and and grounding in the protective hug they offered. 

“Okay, good cloak”, Tony muttered with a soft smile, tilting his head to the side to offer his cheek to the cloak. “Kiss?”

Wrapping around Tony’s waist and shoulders a little tighter, Levi fluttered their collar against his cheek in a loving gesture and then brushed the edge against his lips quickly, pulling back with a pleased shimmy. Tony never would have imagined that he could harbour such affection for a sentient piece of outerwear, but Levi was so much more than that. They weren’t just an extension of Stephen, certainly their own being in every way, but Tony still felt as safe with the cloak as he did with their sorcerer. 

“Cheeky bastard”, Tony whispered, pressing a grateful kiss to Levi’s collar before walking back to the group. Walking around the staircase, Tony nearly stumbled in his hesitation, seeing the three other men sitting and talking in the sitting room, all looking so very human and complete, no extensive scarring or metal limb replacements in sight. He and Bruce hadn’t been able to transmit anything other than text, so his overall appearance had to be a bit of a shock to both men, but any surprise they felt was hidden well. Tony appreciated that neither of them had stared at his scars or arm, or commented on his weight as he had come to expect from most people, though doing so would have been extremely hypocritical of them both as Thor was still hefting an extra eighty odd pounds or so, and dark scar tissue could still be seen crawling out onto Bruce’s neck from under his collar. 

A gentle nudge from Levi prompted him to force himself to walk over, sitting beside Stephen on the daybed while Thor and Bruce each took an armchair. Taking the proffered glass of iced tea that Stephen had set out for everyone, Tony nestled against the sorcerer’s side for a jolt of reassuring life force energy and giving him a quietly thankful smile, for tolerating Thor’s presence if nothing else. 

The rest of their visit went rather smoothly once Levi and Stephen put their differences with Thor aside. Bruce told Tony about the physicist specializing in gamma radiation who he had met on a planet named Olaffür, a Doctor Heri who had helped him create a serum which could be injected weekly to allow him control over when he transformed into the more civil version of his Hulk form. Tony would admit that he geeked out a bit at the scientific marvel Bruce was describing, considering they had both spent countless hours in the lab trying to create the exact same serum, or at least something similar. He also didn’t fail to catch the quietly proud smile Thor was giving the physicist as he rambled on excitedly about the serum which had made his life so much easier in the past few months. 

Bruce and Thor went on to tell them about their recent travels with the Guardians, recounting some of the more interesting planets they had visited, always vigilant for signs of unrest despite both being technically retired. In return, Tony and Stephen filled them in on their personal experience of how Earth had changed after Bruce’s Snap especially, as the sudden reappearance of half the planet’s population had taken several frantic months to even begin to address. Families were displaced from their homes, separated from one another, taking the efforts of the Avengers, government workers, and many volunteers to begin to piece the world back together through the chaos. Tony and Stephen had both been too weak during their initial recovery, still fighting for their lives after the Snap and their life force transfer to help with this effort in the beginning, though they had heard plenty of horror stories recounted by a stressed-out Rhodey as the colonel assisted in restoring order to the world. 

Fourteen months later, Earth certainly still wasn’t back to ‘normal’, and likely never would be. The demand that the sudden influx of people had had on the food production industry had been the most pressing matter, especially since farmers and larger corporations had gotten used to feeding half of the world’s population in those five years after Thanos’ Snap. Of course, Stark Industries had offered its invaluable assistance in combating this new challenge with advanced technology for crop irrigation and sustainable farming practices. Tony had been interested in the think tank and design element of this process, however, he was reluctant to become too involved, preferring to stay off the floor and offer his consultations remotely via video call. 

It wasn’t selfish, he told himself. It was self-preservation. Getting drawn back into the fame and stress of working at SI was not something he would ever do intentionally, and he had managed to do just that even when Pepper had still been part-time CEO before their divorce. She had minimized how much she vented to him about work during his recovery, but she had always come home extremely stressed after a day in at the office, clearly struggling with the never-before-seen issues that kept piling up. 

The Stark household had remained fairly untouched by the food shortages and other governmental travesties, as the cabin with its large garden, farm animals, and solar panels was almost entirely self-sufficient. Tony was tempted to remain in their own secret little Eden with his head buried in the sand, but his drive to do good had lent him to collaborating with environmental scientists around the world through SI in the past few months, helping to implement technology which could help mitigate the effects of the now resurgent population on the agricultural and natural land of their planet. 

Their conversation eventually diverted onto lighter topics and it was six p.m. by the time Tony decided to voice his distress at not having eaten since that morning. Stephen admitted that he had found the spell he was looking for earlier, and had no qualms with waiting until tomorrow to travel to the necessary locations and reapply the protection runes. Tony nearly pulled the sorcerer to his feet in his eagerness, inviting Bruce and Thor to come out to dinner with them for a sort of impromptu double date, of course receiving enthusiastic agreement from Thor and a more politely tentative acceptance of the offer on Bruce’s part. The four of them made their way down the street in the gathering dusk, laughing and joking while Bruce and Tony walked side-by-side on the arm of their taller partner. Levi did their best to hide their lingering wariness of the Asgardian, still draped around Tony’s shoulders defensively as they walked. They ended up going to a shawarma restaurant, the irony of which would have been lost on Stephen completely if not for his viewing of the fourteen million, though he was more than happy to let the three other men recount their first try of shawarma together.

*****

Stephen walked down the distantly familiar, too-sterile hall, a plastic pack of cupcakes crinkling in his perpetually shaking hands as he searched for a certain short brunette through the hustle of nurses, doctors, and patients. Christine hadn’t been anywhere to be found in the ER, so Stephen had taken the elevator up to the seventh floor, home to the neurology department and where Christine spent the remainder of her time when she wasn’t run ragged in the emergency room.

Walking down the seventh floor hall of the Metro General hospital brought up a lot of memories that Stephen would have rather kept hidden, successfully shoving painful, self-deprecating thoughts back behind their thorny barriers, but it was worth it for his oldest friend’s birthday. He hadn’t been able to help her celebrate last year as he had been too caught up in healing from his shattered life force to think about anyone but Tony and himself, so he was determined to make up for it this year. 

Cake was hard to eat when you only had five minute breaks at a time, Stephen figured, only knowing this from his own past experience thanks to the birthday girl in question. So, Stephen brought cupcakes. They were store-bought, (certainly not homemade as Stephen was a terrible baker and the Sanctum kitchens didn’t have anything remotely resembling baking ingredients) not even from a nice Manhattan bakery, because he wasn’t about to go to Tony asking for money for his own friend’s birthday. They had come a long way from the sorcerer feeling guilty for Tony always paying for their date nights, but Stephen still had a sliver of pride big enough that he scraped together what American currency he could find in his jean pockets. The day before New York City Pride, the most birthday-appropriate cupcakes Stephen could find were chocolate with rainbow sprinkles, a meagre substitute for the homemade cinnamon rolls Christine had brought him for his birthday in past years.

Coming to the end of the hall, Stephen rounded the corner and nearly collided with a tall blonde woman, catching his pack of cupcakes with a levitation spell that no one would have noticed unless they knew what they were looking for. A sharp retort ready on his tongue, Stephen felt his stomach immediately twist in a knot as he came face-to-face with Pepper, who was similarly armed with cupcakes. Her thin brows drew into a hard line that made her look positively livid, red lips pressed into a similarly parallel thin, sharp line.

“What in the Vishanti-?”, Stephen muttered bewilderedly, his fight or flight response kicking in involuntarily. He took a decided step back from the blonde, molars clenched subconsciously as his brow furrowed in confusion

“You’re here for Christine, I take it?”, Pepper asked snidely, immaculate red nails tapping on the ceramic place she was holding. “How noble of you to make time for her for once.” Stephen felt like he was being swallowed up from the inside, confusion rendering him momentarily mute as he stared back at her bewilderedly. The pit in his stomach only deepened as Christine came up hurriedly from somewhere within the nurses’ station, standing on tip toe to press a kiss to Pepper’s cheek in greeting. She glanced at the sorcerer before whispering something to Pepper while patting her arm soothingly, and Stephen watched as the blonde’s pencil straight grimace softened into a small smile. 

Stephen noticed vaguely that Pepper’s cupcakes were decidedly superior, homemade carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, Christine’s favourite, and Stephen was deeply disturbed by the jealousy that filled his chest at the sight of them, though the bittersweet confections didn't do anything to help his confusion. Christine gestured for the other woman to go sit in an empty waiting room, and Pepper stalked off, but not without giving Stephen another glare over her shoulder. The sorcerer felt like a pit was opening up under him just from her presence alone, thoughts of her harsh words to him about his relationship with Morgan and all the hurt she had caused Tony making his heart twist uncomfortably. 

“Christine…?”, Stephen asked numbly, his voice small as he tried to swallow the dry, sour taste on his tongue. “Wh-what’s she doing here?” Christine grimaced while biting her bottom lip softly as if she knew how uncomfortable the blonde’s presence made him, stepping forward to take the pack of sad, rainbow-sprinkle cupcakes from his shaking hands.

“Thank you for these, honey”, she said with a tentatively distracting smile, too bright in her attempt to soothe him from his nearly hyperventilating state. “Jeez, I feel spoiled today with-.”

“Since when have you two been…?”, Stephen interjected, feeling like he was going to float away without something in his hands to hold on to. 

“Virgina and I are dating”, Christine suppled calmly, inhaling deeply like she was bracing herself for his reaction. 

“Dating?”, Stephen sputtered, feeling his mind going blank. He knew Christine was bisexual, of course, so the fact that she was dating a woman wasn’t the shocking part, but when his brain finally regained traction, his only thought was, ‘**_Why? Of all the women in the world, why _Pepper_?’_** “I was going to say ‘friends’. And, I’m sorry…_Virgina_?”

“That’s her name”, Christine said, like she was explaining something to an especially slow little kid. “People only call her Pepper because of Tony, and she doesn’t want to be reminded of him constantly.” Stephen nodded as if this made sense, even though his brain was absolutely swimming in questions.

“I don’t even know what to-…since when, Christine?”

“Early March?”, Christine offered warily, squinting like she was having trouble remembering. “Like March 1st sort of early March?”

“March 1st?”, Stephen confirmed, his tone hardening a little in disbelief, swamped by his own fluttery panic. Pepper was the last person he had expected to see at the hospital, and he was perfectly aware that he wasn’t handling it well. “So, March 1st. That’s a week after Tony and I were here and you saw her screaming at him, right? You saw her busting a lung at her injured ex husband and you thought, ‘Oh, I gotta get me a piece of that!’?”

“Your Nebraska is showing, honey”, Christine said calmly, unperturbed. She was used to his temper getting the better of him. “And you’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care”, Stephen snapped, chest boiling with betrayal. “You started dating my boyfriend’s ex a week after I got together with him.

“What, do I need to ask your permission or something?”, Christine asked, heather green eyes snapping as she was slowly losing her never-ending patience. “Not that it’s any of your business who I date or not. Besides, I didn’t even know you and Tony were together until you told me by text two months after the fact.” Stephen paused, brow furrowing as he glanced away for a second, pulled in a dozen different directions by his emotions.

“That still isn’t a valid reason for why you didn’t tell me. Has she told Tony?”

“No. Why would she tell her ex husband that she’s dating someone new?”, the ER doctor asked, one brow raised as she seemed unimpressed by the lack of rational to his question. 

“Wh-. That’s exactly my point. We used to date and now you’re dating my boyfriend’s ex wife”, Stephen hissed, gesturing vaguely to the waiting room that Pepper had disappeared into. “Don’t you think that’s a little strange?” Christine’s only response was a teasing smirk, arms crossed in front of her almost smugly. “Shut up”, Stephen growled in a low voice, knowing his frayed nerves wouldn’t be able to handle parrying an attack of ‘strange’ puns.

“Why does it even matter, Stephen?”, Christine gave in with a sigh, her dusky green eyes meeting his sea glass ones tiredly. “You and I barely see each other, this is the second time I’ve seen you in the past year. It’s like, you come back from the dead and then you don’t even visit me.” Stephen was hit full force with the truth of her words, guilt immediately weighing heavily in his chest as he leaned back against the counter of the nurses’ station. This woman had tolerated him for nearly a year back when he was even more of an arrogant jack ass, remained his friend despite how he had treated her, and then saved his life from a space shard, but he had barely bothered to give her the time of day since he had been un-Dusted. 

“I’m sorry”, he muttered, voice fracturing like gravel amongst the clamorous background noise of the hospital, the sharp pieces travelling down to get stuck in his windpipe sharply. “You deserve much better than that. And…I’ve obviously never been the person to give that to you, no matter what our relationship is.” Christine’s head tilted somewhat sympathetically at his words, giving him a familiar look. It was a look that said she wanted to help, she wanted their friendship to work, but he wasn’t letting her help, keeping her at arms’ length like he did with most everyone.

“I know you’re busy with your job, and Tony, and your family.” She smiled softly, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “You have a family now, Stephen. I’d just like to be a part of it. If you have the time for me.”

“I didn’t know that”, Stephen admitted, swallowing past the hollow lump in his throat. “I thought you’d been avoiding me lately with all…I don’t know. Everything that’s happened.” He gestured around vaguely as if that would lend some weight to his words, hands shaking even more than usual. “I thought perhaps you’d finally gotten sick of me.” 

“I care about you, Stephen”, Christine assured him as she shook her head again, reaching down to hold his forearm gently. “There’s a reason I gave you a second chance with this whole being friends thing. So from now on, let’s make an effort to be in each other’s lives more, okay?”

“Okay”, Stephen muttered in gratitude, knowing deep down in his bones that he didn’t deserve yet another chance. Most likely influenced by Tony, he brushed past the sincere moment with an attempt at wry humour. “You know, besides Wong, you’re the only friend I have.”

“I know”, Christine said, taking a cupcake out of the pack and biting into it before offering him one as well.

“Wow, someone’s a little self-absorbed”, Stephen chuckled, inhaling deeply as he prepared his next words carefully. “I’m sorry for freaking out, I was just a little…shocked, to say the least. If…she makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.” Christine smiled teasingly at his valiant attempt at sounding sincere.

“Thank you, but don’t worry too much about it, it’s still just casual between us. I’m not planning to move in with her or anything. Not everyone is you and Tony”, she laughed lightly, her amused smile growing in response to the disgruntled look pinching the sorcerer’s brow.

“She’s told you about Tony and I moving in together?” Stephen wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about Pepper telling Christine more about his life lately than he had, but he knew that he didn’t like it. 

“Well, you sure as hell didn’t”, she pointed out, smacking his arm affectionately to show she was joking. “Yeah, we sit on her back balcony, drinking wine while gossiping about you two idiots and how you’ve made our lives hell in the past.” Her tone was still teasing, but Stephen had a feeling that every word she spoke was the truth. 

“I think you should meet Rhodey and Wong, I feel like you’d get along with them incredibly well”, Stephen said dryly, but lit up suddenly as a thought occurred to him. “Have you had the chance to meet Morgan?”

“Yes. Oh my god, Stephen, she’s the absolute sweetest little girl I’ve ever met”, Christine practically cooed, her eyes lit up with a maternal love. Stephen remembered with a jolt how he had overheard her talking on the phone to her sister once, going on about her new baby niece and saying how much she would love to have kids some day. Admittedly, it hurt that she had never said this to Stephen directly, but he figured that it was more than reasonable that she hadn’t. Before falling in love with Tony’s kids, he’d never been dad material. Or husband material, for that matter. 

“Isn’t she?”, Stephen asked, heart lightening just at the thought of his little girl. **_She’s not yours_**, his mind reminded him savagely, but he slammed a steel trap on that thought. “I never thought I’d even like kids, Christine, but she just makes me want to protect her and give her everything good in the world.” Christine regarded him for a long minute, her arms crossed while her eyes danced over his appearance, taking in the sight of the soft AC/DC t shirt he was wearing, reading glasses hung on the neck hastily, and a bracelet of purple wood beads on one wrist.

“I can see you being a good dad”, Christine admitted finally, one finger pressed to her lips in thought.

“Really?” That was the last thing Stephen would have ever expected Christine to say to him. She was the person who had seen him at his worst as a human being, a selfish, egotistical asshole with a chronic fear of failure, and probably the worst boyfriend you could ask for. 

“You’re good at whatever you really want, whatever you put your mind to”, Christine said quietly, a distantly disappointed look in her eyes that said she was aware he had never really wanted her, but she had come to peace with that long ago. Stephen nodded quietly in thanks, not sure what to say to that at all, and his mind scrabbled for some way to salvage the interaction on a high note.

“We’re, uh, we’re going to be at Pride tomorrow…if you want to meet up or something?” He regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth, but Christine shook her head mercifully.

“That’s sweet of you to offer, but I don’t think either of us are ready for Pride yet. Maybe next year, if we get that far”, she said quietly, though not with the discomfort of someone who had severe doubts about the success of a relationship.”Anyway, I should probably go see Pepper and then get back to work.”

“Right, of course”, Stephen muttered, taking a step back as if allowing her the space to be free of his presence. “Sorry for making a scene, as you call it.”

“Apology accepted”, she smiled softly, reaching forward to give his wrist a lingering, reaffirming squeeze. “Make sure to give me a call soon. And say hi to the family and the cult for me.”

“It’s still not a cult”, Stephen retorted dryly, but Christine just grinned over her shoulder as she stepped into the waiting room.

“Sure, Stephen.”

*****

“Pepper and Christine are what?!”

Though he knew what his reaction would likely be, Stephen had decided to tell Tony what he had learned during his visit to the hospital. As soon as the sorcerer had gotten home, he had made sure Morgan was occupied in the back den while he pulled Tony into the kitchen and quietly told him about both their ex’s newfound relationship with one another. 

“Dating”, Stephen repeated levelly, though Tony had certainly heard him. He watched Tony’s expression with concern, watching similar emotions as to what he had felt in the hospital flicker over his partner’s face. “Since early March.” Tony didn’t respond, hands pressed against his own temples while stress creased the lines on his forehead, and Stephen felt guilt flooding his chest. 

“I’m sorry, Tony, I just thought I should tell you right away. I didn’t want it to seem like I was hiding it from you or anything.” Tony seemed to snap out of his daze as he looked up to meet the sorcerer’s eyes with regretful pity. They were both thinking the same thing, that Stephen was terrified to accidentally recreate a situation like the one concerning the fourteen million alternate realities. He would never forgive himself for lying or keeping such an enormous secret from Tony, despite the fact that he had had good reason to keep it to himself. Regardless, he was terrified that Tony would find reason not to trust him anymore unless Stephen told him everything from now on.

“No, I wouldn’t think that”, Tony assured gently, scraping his good hand down his own face tiredly as he leaned against the counter. “And I’m glad you told me, but I’m not going to let this bother me, at least not right now. We’re just going to forget about this right now and have fun at the march tomorrow, okay?”, Tony muttered, grinning as he pulled Stephen closer by hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “Just forget about all of this, because they don’t matter anymore, we do.” Tony pulled him down for a kiss, cybernetic fingers drifting under the back of the sorcerer’s shirt as Stephen felt his anxiety beginning to dissolve in his partner’s soul-affirming touch. 

“I almost invited them to meet up with us at Pride, but luckily Christine declined”, Stephen muttered out against Tony’s lips in one breath, promptly earning a smack on the head from the engineer’s good hand.

“You moron”, Tony snarled softly, but still kept his arms held firmly around Stephen’s waist. “You have the social efficacy of a gnat, you know that?”

“I was trying to be nice. I’ve been an absolute ass to Christine”, Stephen said with a playful pout, resting his forehead against Tony’s, losing himself in the chocolate hazel and sky blue of his eyes. Tony was about to respond when they heard an amused snort from behind them and Harley came into view from around the corner, Jarvis Jr perched on his shoulders who chirped a greeting meow when she realized the sorcerer was home.

“Your ex-girlfriend and your ex-wife hooked up?”, Harley snorted, pointing at Stephen and Tony respectively as he went to root around in the fridge, Jarvis balancing on his back when he leaned over. “That’s actually freaking hilarious.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that’s so amusing to you, chief”, Tony snarked, arms still around Stephen’s waist. “Don’t come crying to me when one of your ex’s moves on. Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever told me about a single girlfriend you’ve had, or boyfriend, for that matter.” Stephen didn’t miss the way Harley’s shoulders tensed as he continued to look around in the fridge for longer than was necessary, finally straightening up with an overly bright grin.

“I’ve had plenty of girlfriends, old man, I just don’t want you to meet any of them. No guys, by the way. No offence, but that’s not really my thing”, Harley added smoothly, but Stephen could see by the nervous shaking of Harley’s hands around the pop can he was holding that guys were almost certainly his thing, but he had done a good enough job of brushing the comment off that Tony didn’t seem to notice his odd reaction. Tony unsnaked his arms from around Stephen’s waist to give the kid a playful noogie, and Stephen scooped Jarvis up to keep her out of the way of their rough housing. 

Leaning back against the counter with the kitten nestled against his chest, Stephen reflected on some of the other instances in the past months where Harley had acted strangely in similar situations. He had gotten extremely uncomfortable when Morgan offered to put some lipstick on him when they were playing dress up, something that was unusual in that he would usually let the five-year-old do whatever she wanted to him without complaint. Another example was when the four of them had been hanging out in the living room and Peter had brought the topic of his own bisexuality up to Tony. The teen had explained how he was questioning his entire sexual identity because of his serious crush on MJ, immediately receiving empathy from Tony as he validated Peter’s feelings, mentioning that he had felt the exact same way many times, especially when he was younger. Stephen hadn’t partaken in the conversation, but had listened at a respectful distance, allowing him the chance to notice how Harley had tensed up the second Peter said the word ‘bisexual’. Less than a minute into the conversation, the twenty-one-year-old had clambered out of his beanbag chair and slinked up the stairs to his room without a single word. 

Stephen would have brushed it off as mild homophobia, but he remembered the hug that Harley had given to the attractive East Indian boy when Tony and the sorcerer picked him up from MIT in April. He also mulled over Harley’s overly-exuberant disgust whenever he and Tony displayed any affection whatsoever, something he should have been well past at twenty one years old now that he knew cooties weren’t real. Stephen recalled especially their trip into town last week, Tony and Peter pointing out a cute male cashier to each other, but they may as well have been pointing out a poisonous snake by the way Harley reacted. The kid had immediately pulled his hoodie up over his head, the look on his face almost fearful as he turned the way, accidentally catching the concerned look in the sorcerer’s eyes. 

All of these things had been fairly recent and subtle, and Stephen felt that their relationship wasn’t solid enough for him to bring it up to the twenty-one-year-old, and he didn’t know how to tell Tony about it. Stephen didn’t have any solid information and he didn’t want to make assumptions. Besides, if Harley wanted someone to know or to talk to whatever he was going through, he clearly hadn’t gone to Tony yet, though that was more concerning than anything. 

More apparent than anything was the truth which Tony had just so bluntly thrown out in the open. Even considering his naturally secretive nature, Stephen couldn’t help but notice that Harley had never even mentioned a girlfriend, despite going out on dates almost constantly. Not that Stephen would ever stroke the young man’s ego, but he could acknowledge that Harley was fairly good looking, just another piece to add to the puzzle that simple wasn’t adding up in the sorcerer’s mind. Either Harley had severe commitment issues, or he was trying to compensate for something. 

———

Stephen was given yet another chance to be quietly baffled by Harley’s behaviour the very next morning while they were preparing to leave for Pride. 

Getting three vain men dressed, covered in pride colours, and out of the house to be in Manhattan for noon was a more challenging task than Stephen had ever faced, despite the fact that he was one of these men. He had faced countless horrors during his time as Sorcerer Supreme, but nothing had been quite as grating as Tony and Peter’s inability to decide on an outfit. This left Stephen stalking around the house yelling at them to hurry up, gathering water bottles, snacks, and ID into a pocket dimension that he could open while they were out, all the while being trailed by Jarvis, Levi, and Taj. It was a circus, to be fair, and Harley did his best to remain unnoticed slouched on his beanbag chair in the corner of the living room, hiding under his hood with his phone as usual. Stephen left him alone to sulk, letting Jarvis climb up his pant leg before cradling her in one hand and padding up the stairs with dog and cloak still in tow. 

Walking down the hall and peering into his and Tony’s bedroom, the sorcerer was met with a scene that made his heart flutter and melt simultaneously. Tony was posing in front of the mirror in his six or seventh outfit of the morning, putting on a bit of a fashion show for Morgan as he strutted back and forth, asking the little girl’s style opinion. Morgan just giggled at her dad’s silliness, sitting on the bed as she practically drowned in a patterned floral shirt that he had discarded earlier. Stephen certainly approved of Tony’s latest outfit, though: A pair of dark magenta pants accentuating his various curves gorgeously, set off by light teal t shirt that was also more form-fitting than usual, his bi-flag ensemble finished off with purple-framed glasses. 

“Oh, I’m liking this”, Stephen purred from the doorway, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered into the room, Levi and Taj trailing in after him. Tony turned to look at him with a touched smile, a faint blush playing across his cheeks as he pursed his lips playfully. 

“You’ve said that about the last ten outfits, Strange. I’m beginning to think you don’t even care what I’m wearing, you enjoy the view no matter what.”

“Doc, Daddy’s being dwamatic”, Morgan told Stephen before he could respond to Tony’s blatant flirting, holding her arms out for Jarvis. Stephen chuckled as he placed the kitten in her lap gently, walking over to hug Tony from behind, the sorcerer’s chin resting on his partner’s shoulder as they both admired his reflection in the mirror.

“Is he now? And what else is new?””, Stephen rumbled softly, receiving a playful bite on his earlobe though Tony pretended to pout.

“Aunty May is gonna teach me how to make maccyroons”, Morgan answered in all honesty, patting Jarvis softly as the kitten settled on her lap sleepily, the young tabby exhausted after chasing Stephen around all morning. 

“Mmmhh, you’re going to have to show me and Daddy how to make them some time, then”, Stephen told her, raising a brow slightly as Tony turned in his arms to hook his wrists around the back of the sorcerer’s neck, leaning against his front while grinning up at him saucily. 

“I wish I could pull that shirt off”, Tony said casually despite the suggestive light in his eyes, referring to the sorcerer’s black crop top, short enough to show off a good few inches of his well-muscled midriff. 

“I have another if you want to to wear it”, Stephen teased lightly, but trying to his best to make the offer sound earnest. 

“No, I mean I want to take this one off of you”, Tony clarified in a whisper, his eyes trailing over Stephen’s chest hungrily. 

“We need to leave in ten minutes”, Stephen replied in way of a gentle turn down, prying Tony’s arms from around his neck carefully. Tony ignored his own failed attempt at making them even later than they were already going to be, swivelling his hips as he faced his back to the mirror, looking over his own shoulder to appraise the way his rear was defined by the skinny jeans he was wearing. 

“How does my ass look in these pants?”

“Mommy says ass is a bad word”, Morgan informed them from her spot on the bed buried under a colourful selection of clothing, still lulling Jarvis to sleep by gently stroking her fur.

“Sorry, Moguna. You’re right, Daddy shouldn’t say that word”, Tony agreed with her gently, turning back to look in the mirror as he muttered under his breath. “Mommy wouldn’t appreciate a nice ass if it hit her in the face. Now answer my question, Stephanie. Do these pants make my ass look big?”

“Darlin’, your ass _is _big, and I love it”, Stephen told him, his tone caught somewhere between teasing, sincere, and impatient. “Now can we please agree that this is the best outfit you’ve tried on, because we need to get going?”

“What’s the point of having a boyfriend who can open portals if I’m not going to be fashionably late to everything?”, Tony pouted with a flicker of a smile that said he knew he was pushing Stephen’s patience. 

“Gateways”, Stephen reminded him gently, though his corrections never seemed to ever do any good. “And perhaps the point is to be on time?”

“You’re cute. Go check on Petey-pie”, Tony said with an almost pitying smile, pecking a kiss on the sorcerer’s cheek in a way that was supposed to win him over. Stephen wasn’t budging. If there were two negative qualities in people that he despised, they were lying and tardiness above all else. Luckily, Tony was much more heavily inclined to the latter. 

“Levi, if he starts to take any of those clothes off, come get me, please”, Stephen asked the cloak as he turned to head out the door, stopping and glancing over his shoulder at their daughter. “Morgan, you keep an eye on him too.”

“Okay, Dad”, Morgan promised, beaming at Stephen brightly before giving Tony a suspiciously watchful look. Ignoring Tony’s appalled look, Stephen made his way down the hall to the bathroom, tapping on the door with one foot and opening it after a responding answer from within. He stepped in to find Peter peering into the vanity mirror (dressed in his usual jeans, converse, and flannel, but with a t shirt underneath that said ‘I’m bi and anxious, don’t make me make decisions’) as he painted a pride flag on his cheek with face paint, brow furrowed slightly and mouth hanging agape in concentration. 

“Hey, spiderling”, Stephen greeted carefully so as not to interrupt his focus, standing beside the teen as he watched him carefully draw the brush across his own cheek.

“Hey, Dad”, Peter responded casually, so immersed in his work that he didn’t notice the way Stephen smiled involuntarily at the title. Peter had a tendency to drop the ‘Doctor’ part of ‘Doctor Dad’ when it was clear that he was speaking to Stephen and not Tony, but it still managed to warm the sorcerer’s heart every time. “Did you get dragged into the fashion consultation?”

“I managed to worm my way out, but it will be a miracle if we get out of here before 11:30”, Stephen said idly, tilting his head to admire Peter’s handiwork in the mirror. The teen had painted a small bisexual flag on his left cheek, and was starting on another flag on the other side, though he was using a lighter blue this time. Stephen did his best to hide his reaction when Peter used light pink for the next stripe on the flag, biting his cheek in an attempt to keep a neutral expression. He was about to speak, just in case he was wrong, when Peter painted a white stripe next, and every doubt in Stephen’s mind was eased in one easy, fluid motion, trapping a sigh of relief in his throat before it had the chance to escape. 

“You’re…?”, Stephen started to ask tentatively, even though he knew. Of course he knew.

Stephen had found out through the fourteen million realities, that there were some realities where Peter had been born in the right body, and others where he hadn’t. But he hadn’t know if this reality was one of them or not. He hadn’t been about to ask, of course, as his relationship with Peter was comfortable, but still fragile in places, and he would never forgive himself for stepping out of bounds. His first clue had been during the week before the anniversary of Tony’s Snap that Peter spent at the cabin, when Stephen had found a properly-disposed of syringe in the bathroom garbage. Upon finding the needle in the single-use sharps container, Stephen had immediately broken down while seated on the toilet lid, head held in his hands as he quietly mourned all the realities where had had been there for Peter through his entire transition. He had cried quietly with one hand clasped over his mouth for the fact that Peter hadn’t been comfortable enough in this reality to tell him yet, though he had given no indication of his being privy to this information to anyone, not even Tony.

Momentary confusion swarmed over Peter’s face before a lightbulb visibly went off, looking at the sorcerer almost sheepishly. 

“Oh. Yeah. I honestly forgot that I hadn’t told you yet. There’s just been a lot of shit going on, you know? And that’s kind of a lame excuse, but I wasn’t really worried about it. I mean, I figured you would be okay with it considering…”, he gestured vaguely at the sorcerer in a way that Stephen guessed indicated his and Tony’s relationship, “…but, I don’t know.” Peter inspected the tip of the brush he’d been using as if it held the answers to stop his anxious rambling. “Sorry for not telling you.”

“No, no, no, there’s certainly no need to apologize”, Stephen assured him quickly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as they stood side by side and looked back at each other’s reflections in the mirror. “You don’t owe me anything. There was absolutely no pressure to tell me.” A moment of silence feel between them, an almost smug grin flickering over Peter’s mouth as he glanced down at the tiles beneath their feet. 

“You knew, didn’t you? Through the fourteen million realities?”

“That’s my smart spiderling”, Stephen chuckled affectionately, tousling the teen’s curls gently before pressing a kiss on top of his head. Another moment of silence passed and Peter’s expression darkened slightly, a sort of dry, brittle fear in his eyes as he leaned his head against Stephen’s shoulder.

“Was I…like this…in all of them?”, Peter asked, his voice strained and small-sounding, making Stephen’s heart break with the simple innocence of his question. The sorcerer took a deep, shuddering breath before he answered. 

“No. Peter, I’m sorry.”

“Wow. We really got the shitty reality in some ways, didn’t we?”, Peter laughed dryly with an almost acidic edge to his voice. Dread settled in Stephen’s stomach as Peter shifted and he thought he was going to pull away, but the teen wrapped an arm around his waist instead, fingers bunched into the fabric of his shirt like he was holding onto a life buoy in a choppy ocean. 

“In some ways. But in most ways I’d venture to say that we got pretty damn lucky”, Stephen muttered with a bittersweet grin, tightening his grip around Peter’s shoulder despite the way his hand ached in protest, pulling the teen against his side more securely. Comfortable silence settle between them as they held on to each other and did their best to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay, anchoring one another to reality. Stephen took a deep breath to clear the tightness in his chest before he spoke. “Would you mind helping me get some colours on? I’d do it myself, but my hands…”

“Oh, yeah, sure”, Peter said, looking a little surprised, but he recovered quickly as he sniffed a bit, busying himself with the palette of face paint. “Pan colours, obviously. Uh, what are you thinking, do you want to do flags like this, or…?”

“How are you with eyeshadow?”, the sorcerer asked, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as he smiled up at his boy, eyes warm and sparkling as he tried to contain a little of the cosmic-sized love trapped in his chest.

“Um, I’m alright”, Peter admitted embarrassedly as he rubbed the back of his neck, grabbing the one palette of eyeshadow left in the house, too brightly coloured for Pepper to have taken when she packed up the rest of her makeup. “MJ showed me how to blend properly. But Dad’s a lot better if you want it to actually look good.”

“No, I trust you to do it”, Stephen assured him softly, resting his surprisingly steady hands on his own thighs as he settled on the side of the bathtub.

“Okay.”

Peter was much better at applying makeup than he gave himself credit for, making an unfair comparison between his skill set and Tony’s, considering the older man had been dabbling in cosmetics for several decades longer than Peter had. Stephen was completely at ease under the teen’s nimble hands as he touched up his eyelids and face with a light concealer, applying it with one gentle finger. They kept up easy conversation, Stephen telling the teen about his first time at Pride when he was younger, and the disaster that he had been back then. 

“Just back then?”, Peter asked cheekily, giggling as Stephen just raised a patient brow and closed his eyes again while Peter got to work on his eyes. The gentle brush strokes on his upper eyelid were almost soothing in their long lost familiarity, but Stephen didn’t let himself think of those sleepovers with Donna in her room, giggling together on her bed while she taught him how to do makeup, though only on nights that their parents were away and Victor wasn’t there to pick on him. As always, Stephen fought to stay in the present even when the memories were from this reality, but he did his best to listen as Peter gushed about how good MJ was at doing natural-looking eyeshadow when she was in the mood. 

Peter soon stepped back and declared that he was done, telling the sorcerer not to expect much and not to be pissed at him. Stephen braced himself for the worst, but was shocked to see the vibrant but tasteful yellow on his upper lid, blended into the rich pink under his brow, a sharp wing of black eyeliner separating them from the thin line of blue under his lower lashes. Stephen praised the teen’s handiwork as he admired it appreciatively, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before giving him the five minute warning for when they were heading out the door and through a gateway. Receiving a bashfully shy smile in return, Stephen called for Tony to please hurry up as he traipsed down the stairs, grabbing his pair of black converse from the front hall closet. Sitting on a kitchen chair to slip his shoes on, Stephen noticed the odd glances Harley was giving him from his current place sprawled length wise on the sofa, quirking a brow in silent greeting to the kid’s icy stare. He wasn’t sure if Harley was just exhibiting judgement at the sorcerer’s attempt at a ‘young person’ outfit, much flashier and more revealing than what he usually wore, or if he was secretly feeling left out, but Stephen decided to take a chance on the latter. 

“You’re welcome to come, if you want”, Stephen said measuredly, though as casually as if he were asking Harley to pass the salt. He made a quick motion with one hand and used a spell to tie his shoes since he certainly wasn’t going to put his hands through that ordeal. “Supportive, respectful allies are always appreciated.”

“I’m not an ally”, Harley glowered from under his hood, no doubt using that statement for the shock factor alone since Stephen had seen past his jack ass facade long ago, and knew there wasn’t a cell of this boy’s body that was homophobic.

“Oh?”, Stephen said easily, standing and brushing off the front of his jeans as he met Harley’s eyes. “What are you then?” It was a risk, but Stephen was willing to take it. He saw the momentary telltale fear frozen on Harley’s face before the glowering mask returned, though no completely as a little bit of that scared, little boy slipped through. 

“I don’t know…” Harley checked himself quickly, visibly stiffening. “Leave me alone, wizard.”

“Oh, we’re back to ‘wizard’ when you’re pissed at me, hmm? No more ‘Mom’?”, Stephen rumbled softly, meeting the kid’s silent glower with open, honest eye contact that he offered as an open door to talk to him. He watched Harley waver and soften, his metaphorical hand trembling as he reached out for that door handle, hesitate for second, and then slam it shut in the sorcerer’s face. He wasn’t ready to let anyone in and Stephen had to accept that right now, hearing Morgan and Tony thundering down the stairs behind him. 

“I’m still Mom, even when you’re pissed at me”, Stephen muttered as a gentle reminder, meeting those scared, stormy eyes before turning to herd the rest of his family out the front door. Tony scooped Morgan up in his arms, kissing her on the cheek before depositing her gently into Harley’s lap and telling her to be good, to which she responded with an innocent pout. Stephen was the last out the door, letting Levi transform into a red belt while keeping Jarvis from slipping outside, and he felt Harley purposefully catch his eye. He met the twenty-one-year-old’s questioning gaze, open and honest for once, before it was gone and Harley shook his head minutely, looking down at his phone again as Stephen gave up for the time being and let the screen door shut carefully behind him. 

———

Stephen had been extremely nervous about going to the New York Pride march at first. 

The first and last march he had ever been to was also in New York, his first year at Columbia back in 1994, away from all the stifling negativity of home as he stayed at his dorms for the summer. Stephen had been so desperate to get away from the constant grating, cutting words of his father especially that he had done everything to immerse himself in his new life, his new sexuality, treating it as his first big act of rebellion even if neither of his parents were there to see it. Donna had been so proud of him for going on his own, when he had told her about it later when he was home in November for his birthday. The birthday that she had…_No, live in the moment_. He had been equal parts clueless and excited as an eighteen year old farm boy with very little social life up until then, so he might have overdone it that first year. The second year Stephen had planned to go with his boyfriend at the time, but their breakup two hours before the march had put him off going and he hadn’t been since. That’s what he told himself, at least. In all reality, he couldn’t find it in him to do much of anything besides school since Donna had passed away.

Life got busy with university and then med school, and his residence led directly into his first job, leaving no time for the partying and dating that his first two years of university had provided, so Pride was no longer a part of his life. Becoming an adult in an extremely professional and uptight workplace made sure Stephen learned quickly that it was usually safer to push his sexuality aside, and if someone asked, tell them that he liked women, because that’s where his preference had been falling lately anyway. He met Christine and that part of him was pushed even deeper inside, even when she confessed her own pansexuality to him. Stephen did his best to pretend that his sexual orientation didn’t affect him in any great way, that there was no need to have pride for something that was just going to end up getting him hurt. 

It wasn’t until he saw the fourteen million realities, of he and Tony going to New York Pride yearly and enjoying every second, of revelling in the freedom the day allowed them, of giving them the chance to celebrate and their unique love for each other, to feel alive and vibrant and loved because of their sexuality and not in spite of it. Despite this, after only four months into their relationship, Stephen had been hesitant when Tony suggested going this year. But between Tony’s pouty puppy eyes and Peter’s tangible excitement at the idea of the three of them going together, Stephen would have rather faced Dormammu again than have to say no to either of them. 

This wasn’t to say that Tony hadn’t been understanding of Stephen’s hesitance, of course, as he hadn’t been to Pride himself in well over a decade. Tony had told him before that this was mainly due to the fact that Pepper had never been comfortable enough to go to Pride with him, especially since they looked like a ‘straight’ couple, and Tony wasn’t so stupid as to think that he could get away with going to Pride on his own without having about a hundred different people hit on him. Walking arm in arm down Fifth Avenue, Stephen wasn’t so sure that that still might not happen as Tony had been hit on about a dozen times in the past five minutes, the sorcerer’s protective streak almost getting the better of him until Peter stepped around to Tony’s other side and took his cybernetic hand in his. 

For their first Pride in a cumulative four decades, Stephen was beginning to reconsider the packed streets as thousands of people prepared to begin the march, but it was Peter’s first time actually partaking in the march, and where better to do so than his home state? Besides, Tony had donated to fund the entirety of the 2024 New York City Pride festivities, and it would have been absurd for him to not attend the march at the very least. Stephen had to admit, Tony was in his element catering to a crowd that didn’t expect him to save the world, though he certainly wasn’t going to disappoint in his role as Iron Man. 

The cheers were near deafening when Tony handed his glasses to Stephen to hang on to before tapping his arc reactor twice, the nanobots encasing him in the mark 85 armour that was painted blue, purple, and pink just for the occasion. A dramatic showman as always, Tony started off the march as he flew low over the crowd before surging upwards, spinning and turning in the air as a symbol of their freedom on this day. The march started promptly at noon with Tony in the lead, face plate flipped up as he waved to those he passed, even dipping low enough to give a few people high-fives with his cybernetic hand, much to the joy of several teenage girls who were watching him in awe. 

Stephen resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Tony’s theatrics, but he could see that he was enjoying himself and that’s all that mattered. Despite himself, the sorcerer felt the familiar surge of pride and affection in his chest at seeing Tony in his bisexual flag painted suit, his awe almost usurping the rush of excitement that Tony’s coupled genius and physical power always brought. In short, Tony flaunting his stuff while wearing the armour was an enormous turn on, one that he intended to keep a secret unless he wanted to inflate Tony’s ego more than necessary. 

Peter stayed fairly close to the sorcerer as the march made its way down Fifth Avenue the the Flatiron District, occasionally reaching out to hold on to Stephen’s wrist as the crowd surged around them, a cacophony of sound and colour, people from every culture and walk of life celebrating their identity with one another. By the time they were nearing Greenwich, Tony landed in the middle of the street in the armour to a roar of thunderous applause from the crowds, stepping out of the armour with a vibrant smile that Stephen knew was genuine. 

After talking with some kids and signing a handful of autographs, Tony jogged a little catch up with Stephen and Peter, sliding in between them to retrieve his glasses from the sorcerer and peck his cheek in thanks. 

“Hey, babe. I saw you watching when I was up in the armour. You like what you see?”, Tony asked saucily, sliding his good hand into the back pocket of Stephen’s jeans as he leaned close against his side.

“Everyone was watching you, Anthony”, Stephen reminded him in a patient, low voice that told him he wasn’t going to give in to his conniving plans of seduction, but he was certainly tempted to. “And as good as you look, may I remind you that Peter probably doesn’t want to watch his dads make out during his first Pride march.”

“Thank you, Doctor Dad”, Peter said immediately, his discomfort and then relief apparent on his face, but Tony didn’t seem too perturbed either way.

“Okay, okay, you’re such a killjoy, Underoos”, he teased, ruffling the teen’s hair before leaning against Stephen’s side again. “I still think we need to get that crop top off of you”, he purred in Stephen’s ear, fingers tracing along the exposed strip of skin of Stephen’s back, the fingertips of his good hand gentle on the one scar that snaked its way past his waistband and back under his shirt. 

“Daaad! Keep that up and you’re losing your ‘middle of the sandwich’ rights”, Peter warned, his frown quickly wiped form his face as Tony promised that he’d stop with a cheek kiss for both his kid and his wizard. Peter rolled his eyes softly in response, wrapping the huge rainbow flag he had brought around all their shoulders as they walked three abreast, Tony still in the middle despite being the shortest of their trio. Stephen shouldn’t have been surprised by Tony’s flirtatious nature surfacing no matter the size of the crowd around them, but his own internalized homophobia didn’t lend well to the PDA that the engineer was obviously comfortable with. Regardless, Stephen was grateful to see his partner comfortable in his own skin, as he had been concerned that Tony would be self conscious or anxious today, seeing as this was his biggest and only appearance at an event as Iron Man, but Tony was practically oozing confidence as he walked in between them, occasionally waving at a kid watching the march from the sidelines, but remaining focused on his family otherwise. 

Drawing the sorcerer back out of his own mind, Tony held Stephen’s wrist gently as they walked, Peter’s hand in his cybernetic grip as they were lost in the festivity of the moment, though Tony commented on other people’s outfits every five minutes, whether they were good, bad, or otherwise. Stephen could feel the grip of his partner’s good hand warm and reassuring around his wrist, and he relaxed marginally, looking over at his family with a grateful smile. He would have never imagined having a caring partner and son to go to Pride with, such a stark contrast to his first lonely time at the New York Pride march several decades ago, but he thanked whatever entity was responsible that he had ended up here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENTS GIVE ME LIFE. PLEASE LEAVE ONE IF YOU HAD A FAVOURITE PART OF THE CHAPTER
> 
> Levi being jealous of Victor is so fucking funny to me, even if I feel a bit bad for them :/
> 
> Spoiler alert: Stephen DID cry at Peter’s graduation, but he’s never going to admit that.
> 
> I wanted to give Bruce his ‘human’ form again because, as much as I don’t mind Professor Hulk, ya’ll have to admit that his and Thor’s height difference is one of the best parts about this ship.
> 
> Oh, yeah, Loki’s alive too because he isn’t my most favourite character, but the start of Infinity War was absolute bullshit. The Russos really did just ignore the entirety of Raganrok, didn’t they? Bless our lord and saviour Taika Waititi.
> 
> Shout out to the Pristine shippers. This scene is for you <3
> 
> Just a fair warning, I’m a dumbass cishet who’s never been to Pride. I researched extensively, but if I fucked up anywhere, I’ll be happy to have a knowledgable gay yell at me. <3
> 
> Fun fact: The first Pride march took place in New York City in 1970, the year Tony was born. Also, for anyone who doesn’t know, the Stonewall riot happened at the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar at 53 Christopher Street in Greenwich Village.
> 
> As someone who has only ever used a dry eyeliner pencil, the amount of makeup research I had to do for this chapter is ridiculous.


	25. Far From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is wherever I’m with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fucking massive and I'm very proud of it, so please enjoy and comment if you like <3 love you guys 14,000,606
> 
> So sorry that I went MIA for three f*cking weeks, my summer job consists of physical labour outside so I’m absolutely wiped by the time I get home, with no motivation to do anything. I hope this chapter makes up for the long absence.
> 
> I don’t usually leave you guys with cliffhangers/unresolved stuff at the end of chapters, so I thought it would be fun to leave some stuff out in the open this time. But I promise the next update will be within the week. I’m trying to post on Fridays again, but we’ll see if I can get my lazy ass motivated enough.
> 
> The MCU fucking robbed us of Tony and Peter interacting with Shuri btw. I’ll never not be salty about the genius, technological, meme lord friendships that could have blossomed there.
> 
> Probably my favourite part of this chapter overall is the fact that Tony realizes, as much as Stephen and Peter are his everything, he does have a lot of other people who care about him.
> 
> Oh, yeah, also Fury is a bitch and can go suck an egg. Being a dick to everyone (especially my baby spiderling) doesn’t make you cool. When spiderbaby cries, I cry ToT
> 
> When I tell you a started sobbing hard the second I realized the parallel between Peter pulling an injured Beck to his feet by one arm vs how he’s the done the same with Tony?? Oof.
> 
> This chapter says fuck FFH canon

“When I blipped back to my apartment, the family living there was very confused. The wife thought that I was a mistress”, May said, smiling politely at the laughter brought on by the comedic retelling of her own un-death. “The Grandma thought that I was a ghost.” This earned another smattering of laughter from the audience, though Peter struggled to see how this phrasing made the situation any lighter. 

Standing beside his aunt on stage, Peter tried not to throw up. He had initially been a little nervous about his appearance at the Homeless Support building where May was running one of her charity events, but it was her casually horrific words that threatened to upset his lunch. Peter supposed it was a bittersweet blessing that May had been lost in the Decimation, as he could barely stomach the thought of her having to face his death, grieving for him for those five years as she had already done too many times, for his parents, and then for Ben. Reality slowly filtered back into Peter’s senses as he heard May announcing his presence.

“-and, of course, thanks to our very own Spider-Man!” The audience erupted in applause as May gestured for Peter to step up to the microphone.

“Thank you, Ms. Parker, for having me. And thank you guys for having me”, Peter said as casually and upbeat as he could manage, awkwardly throwing in a thumbs-up as the audience cheered again. Peter was stiff with the effort of controlling his nausea, trying to get May’s words out of his head. Thinking about the Blip (he hated when people called it that) meant thinking about Tony’s Snap, which was dangerous mental territory, especially in public.

“And thank you Spider-Man, and he’ll be right back out to take photos and videos, thank you”, May smiled, her best public-pleasing expression on as she guided Peter off stage. 

“That was amazing”, Peter breathed once they were safely backstage in the storage and maintenance area of the building’s kitchen, pacing a little as he tried to dissipate the nervous energy from his body, retracting his Iron Spider mask. **_Don’t think about Tony, don’t think about Tony, don’t think about Tony. _**

“That was great”, May agreed, walking past him to give him a metallic sounding high five.

“Ah, that was so cool”, Peter breathed, turning back towards her. “I was a little nervous!” May mentioned his stiffness and Peter decided not to dwell on it, letting her badger him about preparing for his trip for a few moments. Something in Peter’s peripheral awareness buzzed as his mask suddenly climbed up to engulf his face, tensing at the sound of someone barging messily through the back door. Peter immediately relaxed with a silent sigh upon seeing Happy struggling with a large presentation cheque through the kitchen door. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late”, Happy grimaced as he managed to pull the grotequesly large cheque through the door with an undignified wobbling noise.

“Happy, hey”, Peter breathed in relief, retracting his mask again as he greeted the former bodyguard, some of the teen’s anxiety ebbing away in his presence. 

“Hey, Peter”, Happy said, sparing Peter a smile before his eyes fell on May and softened noticeably. “Oh, you look lovely. I didn’t get a chance to see you before you left the house this morning.”

“Thanks, you look lovely too. Just a bit crooked here”, May told him with a patiently loving look, stepping forward to straighten his tie and give him a peck on the lips. 

Peter left them to their weird flirting banter as he tuned out a bit, his anxiety scraping at his senses like a cinder block tied to his foot, dragging him down to the bottom of a pool where a fully fledged anxiety attack was waiting. He heard Happy mention Ms. Potts and tuned back out again just as quickly. His time spent with his father figure’s ex-wife had always been briefly polite as she gave he and Tony space to focus on one another. He was grateful to her for letting him intrude on their lives in the early stages of Tony’s healing process, when neither of them were prone to getting much sleep without the other’s presence, but he also knew how she had treated and belittled Tony especially in the past year, putting a damper on the rose-tinted glasses Peter had always viewed their relationship through.

“Spider-Man, go shake hands”, May said and Peter tuned back, also catching the tail end of something about lasagna (though unfortunately vegan).

“Will do”, Peter said distractedly as he pulled himself through the murky layers of stress buzzing in his mind, turning to Happy as May left to tend to the lasagna. “You guys are nauseating.”

“Heads up, Nick Fury's calling you”, Happy said, blatantly ignoring Peter’s teasing insults as usual. Peter’s stomach promptly dropped into his shoes as his anxiety spiked. The first, last, and only time he and Nick Fury had met was at the Wakandan hospital immediately after Tony’s Snap, and Peter certainly hadn't been in the frame of mind to make good first impressions back then. 

“Nick Fury’s going to call me?”, Peter asked, shock swarming his system, intensified ten fold by the nervous energy that still wouldn’t leave his body after May had mentioned the Blip.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”, Peter said, brow furrowing slightly.

“Why? Because he probably has some hero stuff for you to do. You’re a superhero. He calls superheroes”, Happy supplied, though he didn’t look entirely sure about his own words, like he was trying to convince both Peter and himself that it made sense for the director of SHIELD to be calling the teen.

“Well, I mean if it was really that important, he’d probably call someone else. Not me”, Peter bartered. He couldn’t help but think that if the world was in danger, or anything larger than Queens, that he would be extremely low on the list of people Nick Fury would call for help. It had been fourteen and a half months since the Battle for Earth, and Peter was fairly certain he would have nightmares about that day of the rest of his life. He didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with anything more than corner store robberies for the foreseeable future, and he had been hoping to at least go on his school Europe trip without being involved in anymore world-ending situations. He needed time, more time than he had already had, to heal and try to bring himself back to some semblance of normal before he was thrown back into any life-threatening hero work. Peter started a little despite himself as his phone began to ring in his backpack, disproving his own words almost immediately. 

“Apparently not”, Happy said with a bemused grin as Peter pulled his phone out of his backpack. “No caller ID. That’s him.”

“I don’t really want to talk to Nick Fury”, Peter said, turning to Happy for sympathy and receiving none. 

“Answer the phone.”

“Why?”, Peter asked, feeling the puppy dog eyes come out involuntarily as a natural defence mechanism.

“Because if you don’t talk to him, then I have to talk, and I don’t want to talk to him”, Happy said decisively, that familiar anxious edge in his tone.

“Why don’t you want to talk to him?”, Peter pressed, in hopes of gaining some leverage. They were in the same boat and, while not the most touchy-feely person on Earth, he was hoping to appeal to Happy’s empathetic side in some way. 

“Because I’m scared”, Happy admitted in one breath. “Just answer the phone!” Figuring that there was no other way out of this, Peter held the phone screen up for Happy to see and declined the call without breaking eye contact. “You sent Nick Fury to voice mail?”, Happy asked incredulously, a glint of panic settling in his eyes. 

“Yeah.” Peter glanced over his shoulder, hoping he could make a convincing escape, though he had become extremely practiced at dodging Happy’s attempts at gentle discipline.

“You don’t send Nick Fury to voice mail!”

“Did you hear that?”, Peter asked, pointing back towards the curtain where the stage was, slipping his phone back into his bag as he started to back away. “They’re calling me. I got to go. I got to go.”

“You got to talk to him”, Happy reasoned, giving Peter that now familiar chiding look. Only occasionally, Peter missed the days when Happy wouldn’t even talk to him, never mind ignoring the dozens of voicemails he left after that trip to Germany.

“I’m going to call him. I promise you”, Peter assured, sealing his promise with his palms pressed together as he backed towards the stage, four Iron Spider limbs emerging from his back to peel the curtain aside for him. “I’m going to call him. I will.”

“You do not ghost Nick Fury!”, Happy growled, shaking his finger emphatically. 

“I promise you, I’ll call him”, Peter almost pleaded, finally backing out of the room through the curtains, closing them with the Iron Spider arms before they retracted back into the suit. He let out a relieved breath, muttering to himself, “After my trip”, flipping his mask back on as he jogged up the stairs and back on stage.

Peter should have been used to the dark backstage and then the overwhelming noise and blinding light, of cameras flashing and dozens of people clamouring to ask him questions all at once. But his senses were constantly dialled to eleven, a continuous influx of sensory information that was making fielding questions at his third charity event appearance of the week a little more difficult than usual. He managed to single out one journalist at a time, letting them ask questions as each one pulled him deeper into his spiralling anxiety. One journalist asked him if he was the head Avenger now (certainly not. He knew they were still somewhat functioning, but his dads wanted nothing to do with them and neither did he), another asked what he would do if aliens came back, and Peter’s mind whirred as he tried to come up with an answer that didn’t sound as naive and unprepared as he felt.

“Does anyone have any neighbourhood questions?”, Peter asked desperately, grateful for his mask as he felt himself tearing up involuntarily. His senses were too overwhelmed and the word ‘aliens’ alone had made his senses short-circuit, bombarded by flashbacks of fighting Ebony Maw and his companion in Greenwich, of Stephen getting tortured by him on the donut spaceship. Then his mind flickered and his thoughts delved into the Battle for Earth, being scared and alone as he was swarmed by alien creatures trying to tear him to shreds, the suit he was wearing now the only thing keeping him alive. Those same aliens clawing and screeching all around when Tony had-. Cutting his own thoughts short, Peter pointed numbly at another one of the clamouring journalists in hopes he would ask a question that Peter could actually answer.

“Sean Wilford, Queens Tribune. What is it like to take over from Tony Stark since he’s retired? Those are some big shoes to fill.” Peter’s mind went blank as the question echoed in his mind, blood pounding in his ears as a high-pitched ringing muted the frantic voices of the crowd. 

** _Tony. Tony. Tony almost died. Shit. No. Shut up._ **

But there was no stopping the flashbacks, his mind consumed by the image of Tony’s ashen face and glassy eyes as he had lain on the battle field, air clogged in Peter’s throat and he felt heavy darkness pulling at the edges of his vision.

“I'm uh- I'm going to go”, Peter managed to stutter out past his closing throat. “Thanks so much, everyone, for coming.”

Peter didn’t even remember getting up on the roof, cool night air hitting his face as his mask faded away. He crouched on the cement ledge of the roof gasping for air as a train rattled by loudly, pulling him back to his senses slowly. He gasped for breath for several minutes, using some of the breathing techniques his therapist had taught him and Tony had practiced with him, vision blurred by tears as he looked out over the inky black, light glimmering horizon of the city.

Even over a year later, he still couldn’t get Tony’s near death out of his mind, grotesque nightmares plaguing his sleep nightly except for those that he spent at the cabin, when the Doc was available to apply the sleeping spell he had first offered to Peter that late night on the roof. Those nights at the cabin were safe and restful, as Peter could let his mind be at ease, reassured further by Tony’s presence across the hall in his own room. He knew logically that Tony was safe now, but after losing so much family already, Peter couldn’t help but be a little paranoid about his father figure’s safety, especially when his mind wouldn’t let him forget how he had nearly lost him

A buzzing noise from his backpack helped draw him back to reality, pulling his phone out to once again see no caller ID on the screen. Letting out a slight huff of disappointment, Peter let the call ring out as he caught sight of an Iron Man mural on the brick wall of the next building over, a weird sliver of discomfort working its way into his chest as tears built up in his eyes. A small part of him hated that armour now, hated what Tony had done with it, the danger he had put himself in, but he would never tell him that for as long as he lived. As long as Tony stayed out of the armour from now on, he would be safe, and Peter knew that he would do anything to make sure he stayed that way.

*****

Two days later, after some overly-organized packing (Happy’s influence, of course) and a mad scramble for a few last minute items, Peter was standing on the front porch of the cabin saying farewell to his family as May and Happy prepared to drive him to the airport for his long-awaited Europe trip. While May tried to convince Tony to give up on his threats of attaching a tracker to the teen’s suitcase, Peter did his best to hide his laughter as he accepted a tender goodbye hug from the sorcerer. 

“Be safe, spiderling”, Stephen rumbled softly beside his ear, and Peter let himself be wrapped up in the sorcerer’s strong arms, cheek pressed against his shoulder.” And don’t hesitate to call me if you’re having trouble sleeping, okay?”

“Okay”, Peter muttered embarrassedly, though he pulled back to give the sorcerer a grateful smile. “I’ll try not to bug you too much.”

“You never bug us, Underoos”, Tony scolded lightly, nudging the sorcerer aside playfully as he swept Peter into his arms, hugging him tightly as he pressed multiple kisses to the teen’s forehead and temple. 

“Daaad”, Peter complained half-heartedly, disparaging Tony’s attempts to tickle his neck with prickly kisses. “Cut it out, you need to shave. You’re like a hedgehog”, he teased, earning a chuckle and a playful jab from Tony as he slung his cybernetic arm around Peter’s shoulders.

“C’mon, I have something I want to show you”, Tony said, barely hiding his amused smirk as he lead Peter to the other end of the porch, away from where May and Stephen had started to compare walnut date loaf recipes. Happy stood just behind May, looking anxious either because he knew the unfortunate taste-testing that would be in his future, or because he had been paranoid about Peter missing his flight for the past week. 

“Here”, Tony said as he produced a light brown glasses case from his back pocket, depositing it into Peter’s surprised hands rather unceremoniously. “It’s an early birthday present, but don’t open it until after you get to Italy, okay?”

“Wow, I wonder what it is”, Peter smiled impishly, trying to hide his bemused awe as he turned the slight weight of the case over in his hands, watching the sunlight glint over the glossy finish of the light wood case.

“Ungrateful brat”, Tony sneered playfully, swatting at the teen’s head with his good hand which Peter dodged easily.

“Trust me, I tried to get him to wrap it”, Stephen piped in from the other end of the porch, arms crossed as he gave Tony a wry smirk. “But apparently spending five minutes wrestling with wrapping paper was too much effort, even though he spent months designing those things.”

“Shut up, Merlin”, Tony snapped without venom, but Peter noticed the way he fidgeted in embarrassment at the acknowledgement. “I could have had them finished in a few days if I didn’t have your clingy, magical ass distracting me all the time. Why do you think your armour took me so goddamn long to finish? It’s hard to get anything done when your lab partner looks like a Greek god.” Peter just rolled his eyes with an affectionate huff at his dads’ loving banter, nudging Tony as he cradled the glasses case in his hands as if it were an invaluable treasure.

“Thanks, Dad. You really didn’t have to, though.”

“Nonsense”, Tony frowned, nudging him back gently. “You’ve gotta look the part if you’re going to take over for your old man, don’t you think?” Peter’s face fell involuntarily, remembering the journalist’s words from the charity event earlier that week with a jolt in his chest, but he tried to correct his expression before Tony could notice. Of course Tony noticed anyway, even with his one blind eye, pushing his reading glasses up on his head as he squinted at Peter knowingly. 

“What?”, Peter said, avoiding eye contact as he tried to bypass his lapse in control, letting his mask slip for a second, the mask that was covering up all the trauma and anxiety bubbling underneath.

“I don’t want you to be me, just so we’re clear”, Tony said levelly, good arm crossed across his chest as he took his glasses off his head and pointed them at Peter. “That’s the last thing I want, okay?” Peter nodded quietly and Tony sighed as something in his stance softened a little. “May told me about the reporters at her charity thingy, some of the stuff they were asking. Journalists are a sketchy bunch, kid. And talking to press is always hard. They’re just asking questions that’ll give them the best story, and they tend to forget there’s an actual person on the other end of the recorder.” Tony spoke with the jaded air that only came with years of experience on the subject, scrubbing a hand over his face quickly, pulling at his scruffy salt-and-pepper goatee that even the Doc had suggested was in dire need of a trim.

“Yeah, but, they’re also reflecting what most of the world is thinking”, Peter pointed out, anxiety squirming in his chest until there was an uncomfortable knot in place of his heart. “People are honestly scared that you’re kinda, sorta retired now and they're expecting me to be the next Iron Man. And I know I’m not ready for that.” Peter felt both relieved and guilty for finally getting it off his chest, his words simmering in the air now that he had spoken them aloud.

“You don’t have to be the next Iron Man”, Tony assured him quickly, eyes softening as he tilted his head in sympathy. “You’re not Iron Man, you're Spider-Man, and that’s all the world is entitled to expect of you.”

“Okay, that’s what you think, but everyone else is asking me how I’m preparing to be the next Tony Stark”, Peter pointed out, feeling the familiar panic rising in his chest. “I can’t be you, you’re-.”

“Listen to me, Pete”, Tony cut him off calmly as he let his good hand rest on Peter’s shoulder warmly. “You’re not me, you’re not just the next Tony Stark. First of all, I can’t be replaced.” A grim smirk pulled its way across Tony’s mouth. “And second of all, I don’t want you to be me, I want you to be better. Remember?” Tony poked his chest solidly, the metallic finger on his sternum doing something to jolt Peter out of his anxious spiral, Tony’s brows raised as he met his eyes seriously but with all of his usual kindness. “And you are, without even trying, you’re leaps and bounds ahead of where I was as a person at your age, never mind all the hero stuff.”

Peter was knocked speechless by the sincerity in Tony’s eyes, letting his head drop onto his chest as as his dad grappled him into another hug, rubbing his back soothingly. Everything the world was expecting of him in the future, everything that had happened up until then was a lot to process mentally, and Peter still felt like a kid half the time. He could also feel the stress wearing on his body, not realizing how tense his shoulders were until Tony’s strong hands massaged the knots out, his calloused palm warm on the base of Peter’s neck. Tony wasn’t wearing the arc reactor for once, since they had just come out of the house onto the porch, and Peter was grateful to be able to press against the beating of his dad’s heart in his sturdy chest without the nano housing unit in the way, a constant reminder that Tony was always prepared to put himself in harm’s way.

“C’mon, Peter. We’re going to be late if we don’t get on the road”, Happy called over suddenly, and Peter was jolted out of the blissful safety that he always found in his dad’s arms.

“Come on”, Tony muttered, pulling back to smile at him as he carded cybernetic fingers through Peter’s curls. “I love you, Underoos.” Peter closed his eyes with a relaxed grin, calloused and metal hands cupping his temples as Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Be safe, okay? Take lots of pictures and try to shoot me a text once a day.”

“You’re smothering him, Anthony”, the Doc chided softly as he sidled up to them, a teasing twinkle in his eye as he accepted his punishment of a smack on the arm from Tony.

“Oh, please, that’s nothing”, May said, trying to convince Happy that Peter would still make his flight even if they didn’t leave in the next five minutes. “I expect him to text me every three hours, and give a call home every night. And, Stephen Strange, if you have anything to say about that, I’m afraid the trip just acquired an extremely overqualified chauffeur”, she snapped with a quirked brow, and Stephen shut his mouth immediately. 

“Is bickering your way of trying to convince me to stay?”, Peter teased despite his endearment for all four of his parents, exchanging a cheek kiss with Tony before standing on tiptoe to plant one on the Doc’s angular cheek. “Because it’s kind of doing the opposite.” Peter received a loving smack from Tony as May finally gave in to Happy’s anxiety, announcing that it was time for them to head out. Kneeling on the deck carefully, Peter ruffled Taj’s ears in a quick farewell, standing to receive a head-butt to his hand from Jarvis who was in her usual spot on Stephen’s shoulder.

“Bye, J squared. Take care of our dads for me.” Jarvis mewed loudly in response, claws digging into the sorcerer’s cardigan as she leaned out to press herself against Peter’s hand. Since Harley was at work and Morgan at her mom’s, Peter was done with his goodbyes after that. Stephen and Tony waved them off from the porch as Peter got into the back seat of the car, premature homesickness worming its way into his chest as he watched his second home disappear behind the winding poplars as they drove away.

*****

Several hours after Peter had left for the airport, dusk fell over the surrounding forest while Stephen stood at the kitchen sink, watching the sun set over the lake as he finished up the dinner dishes. Though usually reluctant to let the sorcerer subject his hands to hot water, Tony had gratefully taken the opportunity to give Morgan a bath upstairs while Stephen had cleaned up after the mess they made together while trying a new recipe. After finishing the dishes, Stephen settled down in the middle of the sofa with a soft groan, his feet propped on the coffee table as he used a levitation spell to pull his current novel from the pile on the table. Taj was disturbed from his spot on the living room carpet by the movement and Stephen patted the sofa cushion beside himself to invite Taj up, the large mutt jumping on to the sofa carefully and turning in a circle before curling up with his head on Stephen’s lap, the sorcerer trailing shaking fingers over the soft fur of his ears. Levi was sulking on the back of Tony’s armchair since Stephen had told them it was too hot for them to stay on his shoulders, and the sorcerer knew he would be getting the cold shoulder from the relic for the rest of the night. 

Stephen managed to make it through an entire chapter before he heard a thudding on the stairs, though he didn’t have to look up to recognize Harley’s almost lazy gait descending the staircase. It was easy for the sorcerer to decipher between the footsteps of the three other men in his family: Harley’s easy shamble was much slower than Peter’s driven, energetic steps, which were much quicker than Tony’s gait, which was somewhere between the other two in terms of speed and energy, but a bit heavier. Stephen managed to maintain his focus on his book until the twenty-one-year-old dropped down beside the sorcerer’s feet, sitting on the coffee table in a crossed-legged position as he let Jarvis settle from his arms into his lap.

“When did you know you liked guys?”, Harley asked suddenly, without any pretence in his voice, and Stephen looked up to meet the intense, stormy blue eyes that were locked on his face. The sorcerer blinked several times in bewilderment as his brain caught up to the situation presented before him. A moment of silence allowed Stephen to decipher that Morgan and Tony were still in the upstairs bathroom, so Harley had clearly chosen this moment to speak to the sorcerer alone. Processing this information quickly, Stephen logged in his mind a reminder to make more one-on-one time for his eldest.

“When I was fourteen”, Stephen responded levelly, closing his book slowly as if to avoid spooking a stray cat. He kept his hand on Taj’s head, gently stroking the downy fur there to show Harley that he wasn’t going anywhere. He was invested in this conversation and Harley was safe to talk with him about anything. 

“How?”

“Pardon?” Stephen blinked again, pulling his reading glasses off to feel less owlish, and to minimize the barriers between himself and his obviously vulnerable-but-trying-to-hide-it kid. 

“How did you know?”, Harley clarified with genuine, but guarded curiosity, eyes narrowed with the perception of someone who was doing research for their own purposes, gathering information like a scientist jotting down test results. 

“This really cute jock and I used to make out in the library instead of going to our biology class”, Stephen told him bluntly, knowing that honesty was the way to gain Harley’s trust, and to avoid beating around the bush at all costs. “He was shorter than me, but he had gorgeous eyes.” Stephen smirked softly to himself. “Looking back on it, I think I might have a type.”

“You skipped class in high school?”, Harley asked in disbelief, throwing Stephen off with the sudden deviation in their conversation topic. That was fine. Stephen was used to Tony’s rapid-fire, pinball machine way of talking, after all, which was very similar to Harley’s tendency to lose interest in a topic five seconds after it came up.

“Only because I already knew everything that teacher was covering”, Stephen clarified with a warning edge to his voice, suggesting that Harley didn’t follow suit if he knew what was good for him. “That was before my parents had me moved up a grade.”

“Ha. Nerd”, Harley snorted, but the impish light in his eyes disappeared as his jeering smile fell into a thoughtful expression. A moment of silence passed between them as Stephen watched the twenty-one-year-old visibly let down at least one of his walls, both sitting silently like granite statues of patience and tension respectively. “Did you tell your parents?”, Harley asked suddenly, avoiding eye contact as he focused on patting Jarvis who was purring like a tiny motor boat in his lap. 

Stephen shook his head no silently. “They weren’t very accepting, to say the least. But my brother and sister helped cover for me whenever I snuck out to see a guy.” This caught Harley’s interest as he had hoped, blue eyes drawn up to meet Stephen’s face with shock at the reserved, disciplined sorcerer revealing another rebellious snippet of his tremulous youth. “I dated girls sometimes so that was a bit of a cover up, but it still felt wrong to hide that part of myself, even though I needed to in order to avoid getting kicked out of the house.” Stephen realized that maybe wasn’t the best note to end that sentence on as Harley divulged into a thoughtful silence, but the sorcerer figured that the twenty-one-year-old was smart enough to realize that his queer ‘parents’ weren’t going to kick him out of the house because of his own sexuality. 

“You’re safe here, Harley”, Stephen told him softly, making sure to limit the heartbroken affection bleeding into his voice, knowing that that would just scare the kid off. 

“I don’t know what I am”, Harley said suddenly, his voice small and terrified as he met the sorcerer’s face with watery, but trusting eyes. Stephen had to hold back a sigh of relief at Harley finally admitting that he was questioning his sexuality. Now he could help. 

Stephen would have been surprised about Harley not going to Tony earlier for this conversation, considering he held infinitely more trust in the engineer, but Stephen knew that their relationship wasn’t inclined to displays of heavy, heartfelt emotion and conversation. They had their talks about everyday problems, of course, and Tony was the only person that Harley would willingly hug, but both found it extremely difficult to talk about their own emotions. Harley had seen Tony at some of his worst moments, and that wasn’t to say that he didn’t trust him as a father figure, but they certainly didn’t have the same level of open communication that Tony and Peter did. Harley had obviously been stewing on all of this in his own mind until he felt like he was going to explode, erupting embarrassedly in front of the sorcerer, the closest thing he had ever had to an understanding maternal figure.

“That’s perfectly okay”, Stephen responded carefully, making sure not to lean towards the kid even though he was dying to pull him into a hug, to stop the quaking of his shoulders. “It’s not as important to put a label on yourself as people make it out to be. Some people find labels useful and others go their entire lives without any. It’s completely up to the individual.” In situations like these, Stephen would have normally drawn upon his knowledge from the fourteen million alternate realities, but what little he had seen of Harley in those realities didn’t give any indication as to what his sexuality was, not that it would be the same in this reality even if Stephen did know.

“Yeah, but it seems like it should be so simple, but then I start thinking about it and I just get more confused”, Harley told him, voice edging into panic as ran a trembling hand over Jarvis’ back gently. “I don’t know… And it seems so easy for Peter, he just _knows_ he’s bi, right? And I’m over here like I don’t have a fucking clue”, Harley barked with bitter laughter, bewilderment at himself clear on his face as he choked on anxiety. He clearly wasn’t used to not having an answer for things, and the lack of control was terrifying him. Stephen would never voice this thought aloud, but Harley reminded him very much of a younger version of himself, back when he had been obsessed with his desire to control death, back when his near fatal fear of failure had overtaken his life. It was obviously very important to Harley to be able to put a label on his own sexuality, for the sake of reclaiming the unknown, if nothing else.

“Harley”, Stephen started calmly, keeping his voice low and soothing as he met the kid’s gaze levelly. The sorcerer didn’t use his name very often, but when he did, Harley knew he meant business. “You remember Peter was talking to Tony the other week about how he was questioning his sexuality? It’s not easy for anyone, okay? It took me almost thirty years to be certain that I was pansexual. Sexuality is a fairly fluid thing, which doesn’t make it any easier, but I’ll try to help you if you want.” Stephen felt a sliver of concern work it’s way under his heart as he saw how Harley was nearly hyperventilating with his own internalized panic. “Just take a breath.”

“I’m not doing your fucking yoga or meditation shit, wizard”, Harley snapped weakly, pupils dilated as he tried to hide his frantic, wheezing breaths.

“Of course not”, Stephen responded patiently, drawing upon his deep well of subconscious meditative strategies to try and get Harley to mirror his deep, deliberate breathing. Taj seemed to notice his boy’s distress and whined softly until Stephen put a reassuring hand on the mutt’s head, still focusing on Harley. “Just take a normal breath so you don’t hyperventilate and pass out on me.” Harley gave him a guarded look, and Stephen was afraid for a second that he would lose him, their moment of vulnerability shattered, but the kid relented and tried to take a deep breath. Shallow, shaky breaths eventually evened out into deeper, steady inhalations that were almost normal as they breathed together and Stephen watched the panicked edge leave those blue eyes.

“Fine”, Harley growled softly, and Stephen took this as a sign to continue their conversation. 

“So, walk me through your thought process”, the sorcerer started calmly, hands spread wide and resting on his knees as he had reverted to his usual cross-legged pose on the sofa. “What are you thinking you might identify as?” Harley seemed both relieved and thrown off by the straight forward question.

“I…I have no idea”, he sputtered, immediately getting defensive. “I barely know what anything’s called.”

“Okay, but you’ve gone on dates with mostly girls, right?”, Stephen reasoned, trying to narrow down Harley’s sexuality-induced panic by starting with broader questions.

“Well, yeah”, Harley shrugged, looking down as he traced his fingers over the black stripes on Jarvis’ forehead. “I mean, I only went out with girls ‘cause that’s what I thought I was supposed to do, but I always ended up never calling them back or just becoming friends with them. I’ve just…never really been that interested, you know?”

“I understand”, Stephen nodded, heart thumping in relief as Harley had yet to clam up again, but treading lightly as he raised a brow in question. “So…guys, then?” The twenty-one-year-old tensed visibly and Stephen had to suppress the urge to reach a hand out to him, like he was soothing a spooked stray cat. They both stayed frozen in place until Harley relaxed again, burying his fingertips in Jarvis’ fur as he continued to pet her gently, the repetitive gesture seemingly calming them both.

“Well, um, I think…I think I like guys. Maybe both, maybe just guys. I don’t know. I’ve never really…”

“Kissed a guy?”, Stephen pressed, biting his tongue as stormy blue eyes snapped up to give him a defensive glare.

“No. I have. I just…I’ve never felt anything. Except…” Harley trailed off again, and Stephen decided it was safe to give him another gentle nudge.

“Except?”

“Except with Rajesh”, Harley muttered, cheeks flushing as he averted his gaze quickly, lifting Jarvis to his chest and hiding his face against the kitten’s fur as she squeaked out a sleepy meow. Stephen nodded in satisfaction at the minute progress. He was taken aback by how honoured he felt for Harley to be opening up to him like this, but pressed past it in order to stay in the moment. 

“Okay. Rajesh, your friend from MIT, right?”, Stephen clarified, even though he knew. He had been privy to many two a.m. FaceTime sessions that Harley had with his ‘friend’, especially when his own insomnia drove the sorcerer awake during the wee hours of the morning. “So, possibly sexual attraction only to those that you have an emotional bond with. You could be demisexual then. Possibly. No need to rule anything out yet.” To Stephen’s slight surprise, Harley frowned as he shook his head.

I don’t think that’s right”, Harley corrected awkwardly, eyes darting away from the sorcerer’s quickly. “It’s not really, um…sexual attraction, I guess. I just…like him.”

“Oh”, Stephen blinked, starting to feel the puzzle pieces slide together in his mind. It was almost obvious now that he thought of it, but he wanted to be sure. “So, when you say you’ve felt something kissing him, it’s just been…what?”

“Like…I don’t know.” Harley struggled for a second, floundering to grab the appropriate words from the empty space in front of his eyes as he searched for them. “Like I feel safe with him, and I want to spend time with him, but I don’t wanna get in his pants, you know?”

“I see”, Stephen nodded sagely, watching infuriation flicker through the boy’s eyes.

“What do you mean ‘you see’? It doesn’t make any sense”, Harley spat, letting Jarvis sit in his lap again as he kept his hands on her, as gentle as ever despite his frustration.

“It makes quite a bit of sense, actually. Now that we’ve laid it out like this, at least”, Stephen explained gently, letting Taj slip off the sofa to rest his head in Harley’s lap in an attempt to comfort his boy, disturbing Jarvis in the process who let out a surprised squeak. “I could be wrong, but it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume that you might be demiromantic and asexual.” Harley stared back at him with panic-edged confusion, so Stephen continued. “Being demiromantic is romantic attraction only to those that you have an emotional bond with, and asexuality is a lack of sexual drive and attraction completely or at varying, but low levels.” Stephen paused again, giving Harley a chance to respond, but then prompted him gently when the kid remained silent while petting Taj’s head almost robotically. “Does that…possibly sound right?” Harley’s eyes took on a rare introspective look as silence fell between them again. 

“Maybe”, he relented, eyes flitting back up to meet Stephen’s again. “That could be right. I don’t know.” Harley took a shuddering breath, glancing up at the ceiling like it might hold the answers to his plight, or maybe he was just cursing out a god or two. “I just feel broken and wrong, and I keep going on all these stupid dates, and none of it gets any better”, he croaked, voice wavering as he focused on burying his fingers in Taj’s thick ruff in an attempt at calming himself. “I feel like a jack ass for blowing dates off, and like I’m wasting people’s time, but I still feel like a piece of me is missing, I just don’t fucking know what it is.”

“I know you’re not going to like this answer…”, Stephen started carefully, heart breaking for the confused, scared, angry boy he saw sitting in front of him. “But figuring out who you are takes time, Harley. It doesn’t happen overnight. And I’m not saying it’s going to take years necessarily, but you need to have a little patience in finding your missing pieces.”

“That’s the problem”, Harley lamented, hands held out in desperate frustration. “I don’t even know what my missing pieces are.”

“It’s just finding whatever makes you happy, sweetheart”, Stephen smiled lightly, fixing the kid in his caring, patient gaze. The sorcerer hoped that he could portray how much he loved his scruffy, snarling, untrusting pseudo son with facial expression alone since neither of them were ready for the verbal version. “The only thing you need to worry about is being happy, and everything else will fall into place. That’s what I mean when I say you’re safe here. This is your home and you’re safe to find out who you are here, Harley.” The twenty-one-year-old ran a hand through his messy blond hair, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully as he absorbed these words carefully, but he couldn’t accept them so easily without question. He had been betrayed too many times to take people’s words at face value, not without multiple tests of reliability and loyalty. Stephen seemed to be passing most of the tests so far.

“You make it sound so simple, but I have no idea what makes me ha-.” Harley was interrupted by Stephen’s phone watch ringing, the sorcerer hissing as he tapped the band to look at the display screen and caller ID, sighing as Wong’s name showed up.

“For the Vishanti’s sake. I’m sorry, Harley, I have to take this”, Stephen explained apologetically, and the kid shrugged nonchalantly though he was clearly put off, looking down at his lap and cradling Taj’s face in both his hands gently as Stephen answered the call. “I sincerely hope this is call is of a pressing matter, Wong, and not just an attempt at mooching a tuna melt off of me on my way back to the Sanctum.”

“No, I’m not calling about lunch”, Wong growled, an anxious quality to his usually lax tone that immediately set Stephen on edge. “The Sorcerer Supreme’s services are required in dimension 3,247. There have been attacks of dark magic on their government, corrupting their ruler. Other masters haven’t even been able to detect the source.” Stephen felt his heart drop at Wong’s quick explanation, realizing immediately that this wasn’t going to be a quick trip, and certainly not an easy one.

“I’ll meet you at the Sanctum. Give me five minutes to say goodbyes”, Stephen sighed softly, catching Harley’s eye and the concerned look he was giving him, dread lodging itself under his breastbone. Levi floated over and latched onto the sorcerer’s shoulders immediately at hearing the librarian’s words through the phone, shivering softly in protective readiness. 

“Make sure you tell Stark about the time difference. Wouldn’t want your husband freaking out like last time”, Wong reminded him grimly, but with a teasing edge that managed to pull a bittersweet smirk across the Sorcerer Supreme’s mouth.

“We’re not married”, Stephen reminded his friend uselessly as the line went dead, running a hand down his face tiredly as he prepared himself mentally and emotionally for the next five minutes and the hectic, death-defying chaos that would follow.

“Well…”, Stephen drawled, meeting Harley’s eyes again as he sat up a bit, squaring his shoulders in an attempt at feeling like he was in control of his own body. “I’m sorry that Wong has the most terrible timing in the multiverse…but I’m glad you told me. I promise we can talk about this again if you want”, Stephen said as casually as possible, standing as he picked his way around where Taj was sprawled on the carpet. Harley stood at the same time, letting Jarvis sit on the coffee table, and Stephen was overcome by the trust that had been required for the vulnerable conversation they just had. He held his arms out tentatively as he took a half step forward, and Levi mirrored the action with their corners.

“Woah”, Harley said, putting his hands up in a defensive stance, giving the sorcerer a wary look. “I don’t do hugs, wizard.” Stephen shouldn’t have been surprised by the rejection, but his heart lurched regardless, reminding himself not to take it personally. He knew from the fourteen million realities that Harley hadn’t grown up in a household that was prone to displays of physical affection, limiting his rare offering of the occasional hug to Tony exclusively. 

“Not even to hug your mom?”, Stephen asked with a playful pout, arms still held open but lowering incrementally as he tried to diffuse the awkward tension of the situation. It seemed to work as Harley smirked with a gentle eye roll, his eyes flitting over the sorcerer’s silent offer of comfort. His body weight shifted, one foot inched towards Stephen in a moment of extreme vulnerability before the sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs made him falter and take a step back. Harley looked away, obviously embarrassed as Tony came into view halfway down the stairs as he had apparently finished giving Morgan her bath. 

“It’s okay”, Stephen muttered as he turned back to Harley, giving him an understanding look as he resisted the urge to rest a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, Levi tousling the kid’s messy blond hair instead. “You’ll get there.”

“Stephanie”, Tony called as he waltzed up to them, practically drowning in one of Stephen’s oversized Queen t shirts, reading glasses perched in the soft, grey mess of his hair. “Your little pumpkin wants a bedtime story from her Doc, because all of Daddy’s stories suck, apparently.” Tony’s easy grin froze on his face and fell when he saw the look on Stephen’s face. “What’s wrong? What’d I miss?”

“Wong called…”, Stephen started, and Tony practically deflated as he looked away, wincing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. They had been through this enough times for Tony to catch on to the situation immediately, but it still didn’t get any easier with time.

“Oh, babe, no…”

“I’m sorry”, the sorcerer muttered, stepping forward to trace his hands down Tony’s arms, catching his hands in his as he pulled the engineer towards him gently. Tony wrapped his arms around the sorcerer’s ribcage as Levi reaching out for him also to help draw him in against Stephen’s chest. “There’s a potential threat of dark magic in another dimension, and Wong wouldn’t have called me unless it was serious.”

“Time difference?”, Tony asked immediately as he looked up at him, close-rooted fear coursing through his good and blind eye alike.

“Yes, unfortunately. It’s one day for every three of yours, and I have no idea how long this is going to take, but I’m afraid it may be fairly serious.” Tony seemed to swallow his own trepidation, holding on to Stephen’s forearms steadily as he nodded, accepting what he couldn't change as he switched into protective mode.

“Okay. This is out of nowhere, but you gotta go do your wizard shit.” Tony calmed himself with a quick breath, wetting his lips nervously as he met Stephen’s eyes. “Do you have your housing reactor?

“Right here”, Stephen assured him, pulling the Eye of Agomotto-shaped reactor off his belt where it was always tied, even when he was in casual clothes as he was now. He hung it around his own neck to help quell Tony’s fears, the sorcerer’s heart catching in his chest at the quietly hurt look in his partner’s eyes, the fear that came with the prospect of losing each other every time Stephen was called away. 

“Go tell your little munchkin you’re leaving, because I’m not letting you dump that on me”, Tony said in a valiant attempt at teasing, but his voice still sounded strained and small, making his words come off harsher than he had meant. “I’m not disappointing her when she thought I was coming down to get you for bedtime stories.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go say bye to her, and then I have to head out”, Stephen said at Tony’s silent nod, and the sorcerer slipped out of his partner’s embrace to jog up the stairs lightly. Heart pounding in his chest with each step, his arc reactor swung against his chest heavily with the weight of all the love and protection it held. He wasn’t ready for this. He was never ready to say goodbye to his family, even after he had been needed on more missions lately, even after he had left nearly a dozen times to different dimensions in the past month alone. 

Morgan’s quietly heartbroken acceptance, when he told her of his imminent departure, was so similar to Tony’s that it broke the sorcerer’s heart, somehow even worse than if she had at least whined or cried a little. He wrapped his arms around her hastily but gently, Levi cocooning around them both as Stephen pressed a prickly kiss to Morgan’s cheek that usually would have made her giggle. Her silence was worse than any eternity spent in a time loop of pain and suffering, promising her all the bedtime stories in the world when he got back, and whispering how much he loved her before he pulled back from her tiny embrace.

Stephen went thudding back down the stairs hurriedly before Morgan could see him tear up, noticing Harley hovering by the front door as if waiting to see him off. Using his phone watch’s voice-to-text function, Stephen sent Peter a quick text to let him know what was going on since technological communication between dimensions was impossible, trying not to think about he wouldn’t be able to speak to his family for probable weeks. Levi swiped quickly at a tear that had made its escape down Stephen’s cheek as he met Tony in the front hall, the engineer nearly bowled him over with a desperate bear hug. Stephen held him back tightly, rocking him softly side to side as he pressed a kiss to Tony’s scarred cheek, pulling back a little even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Hey, I’ll be back”, Stephen promised, his voice hushed as he cupped his partner’s cheek in one big, scarred hand. “I’ll always come back.” He slid his hand along Tony’s jaw to tilt his chin up with one finger, dipping down to meet him in a gentle, soul-affirming kiss that made an attempt at messily glueing back together the crumbling pieces of his heart. 

“Of course you’re going to come back, asshole, ‘cause I’d never forgive you if you didn’t”, Tony muttered against his lips, mismatched eyes flickering up to meet the sorcerer’s sea glass ones. Once again, he hid his gut-wrenching worry with an attempt at teasing. “I swear I’m going to make a tracker that works across different dimensions, I don’t really give a damn if Wong says it’s possible or not. And you’re a cruel man stressing out a heart patient like this.”

“Speaking of Wong, make sure you go to him if your chest starts to hurt”, Stephen warned him softly, ignoring Tony’s attempts at deftly deflecting from his true emotions. “We know the pendants work for up to a week, but he’ll be able to give you a spell that will remediate the separation symptoms if I’m gone for longer.”

“Try not to be gone for longer. Aim for a week at the very most. That’s enough time for you to zip in, do your magic wizard deal, and zip back home, right?”, Tony nearly pleaded, trying to keep the worry out of his voice, grip tightening on Stephen’s wrist a little like he would bodily keep him home if he needed to. Levi wasn’t helping the tearing seam in Stephen’s heart as they wrapped around he and Tony, holding them together in their own desperate embrace.

“I’ll try my best to be back as soon as possible. I love you”, Stephen promised, pressing a kiss against the corner of Tony’s mouth to stop his anxious rambling. Stephen tried to avoid the engineer’s heartbreaking gaze as he gently pried his wrist out of his deadlock grip, something in the sorcerer’s chest fracturing in the process. Stephen had to growl a few words in a long dead language before Levi would even consider letting go of Tony, deep, crimson fabric trailing down Tony’s arms as Stephen walked away from him, clinging to him until they were forced to let go. Sighing softly, Stephen held on to Tony’s mumbled, “I love you too”, and stored it in the hollow ache already forming under his breastbone, turning to the front door where Harley was standing.

“Keep an eye on him for me”, Stephen muttered quietly to the twenty-one-year-old, a knowing confirmation more than a question, something that never needed to be said, but he felt better saying it anyway. “And take care of yourself too. You know to call Rhodey or Happy if you need help.” Harley nodded his agreement, avoiding the sorcerer’s gaze as he left through the front door, and Stephen sorely hoped that moment wouldn’t end up being their last missed chance at a hug.

*****

Less than twenty four hours into Peter’s vacation, it had already been ruined.

After their group had arrived at the less than impressive hotel, Peter had managed to do little more than buy the Black Dahlia necklace he’d been planning to get MJ before their sight-seeing excursion was interrupted by a colossal monster made of water. Peter had left his suit in his hotel room in the preventative hope that he wouldn’t need to use it, but found himself wishing he had something more than a masquerade mask to cover up his identity. The canal had become choppy as the water was drawn up into the form of an elemental giant, pushing Ned’s boat to the side of the canal as Peter had helped him and others out of harm’s way. 

The massive creature had been smashing buildings and boats as people screamed in terror, Peter’s web shooters proving to be useless against the mass of enraged canal water that was clearly aiming to wreak havoc, targeting Peter as he narrowly avoided it’s swinging fists like tidal waves. Peter had just been slammed into a bridge, just recently devoid of people, drenched and with the air knocked out of his lungs when a bright light hit the monster from above. Looking over his shoulder, Peter gaped in confusion at the cloud of green smoke and the armoured figure who had appeared from within it. The figure was draped in a deep red cape that looked incredibly like Levi, and for a split second Peter hoped it was the Doc, but quickly spotted the glass fish bowl that was in place of a helmet with a confused frown.

The mysterious figure had employed Peter’s offered help as the teen lured the monster away from the canals, saving a group of people from being crushed by a bell tower which the water creature had knocked over, getting dinged in the head by said bell for his efforts. The tower had fallen once everyone was safely out of the way, despite Peter’s best efforts and the tensile strength of his webbing. He watched in fascinated horror as the armoured, caped figure (almost a weird hybrid hero of his dads, Peter thought) fought the creature with beams of green light and smoke that reminded Peter of when the Doc had used the time stone on Titan. The odd figure dodged the creature’s attacks and shot beams of light to deflect its swings, using bands of green smoke around the water giant’s wrists to finally tear it in two. With a pounding heart, Peter’s main concern once the creature was dealt with had been checking that the Black Dahlia necklace was still intact, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it still in one piece. He watched as the mysterious figure had saluted the crowd to acknowledge their cheers, before flying off and disappearing in a cloud of green smoke. 

*****

Back at the hotel, a group of Peter’s peers were clustered around the television set just off the main lobby while he took the chance to call May.

“No, no, no, no. We wanna stay. We wanna stay”, Peter assured his worried aunt, though only after ten minutes of convincing her that he hadn’t experienced any significant bodily harm during the fight.

“It’s a good thing I packed your suit, huh”, May said pointedly, and Peter decided not to point out that he hadn’t even used it yet. And he was planning on keeping it that way. “I can’t believe you forgot it.”

“Yeah”, Peter agreed numbly, suppressing the memories of the last time he had actually used one of his suits.

“So, who was that guy you were with?”, May asked, drawing him back out of his own head. “That wasn’t Stephen, was it?”

“Ummm... No. The Doc is on a mission in another dimension. I don’t know who that was. He was a new guy. I was trying to help him, but…” Peter was cut off by the sound of May scolding Happy, telling him not to eat her lunch as their usual affectionate bickering ensued. After saying hi to Happy and promising to call him if any further trouble popped up, Peter hung up and stared at his phone for a moment of consideration before calling Tony. He wouldn’t tell him about the water creature attack, because that would have Tony over to Italy faster than Peter could convince him that he shouldn’t, not able to bear the thought of putting his dad in harm’s way. 

“Underoos!”

“Hey, Dad”, Peter said chuckling softly as some of the tension left his body just from hearing Tony’s voice. “Just calling to let you know I’m alive.”

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about your old man. You fluent in Italian yet, bambino? You know you’ll be a disgrace to the family if you don’t at least pick up a bit of your mother tongue.” Peter decided not to remind him that they weren’t related by blood, leaning against the wall as he let Tony’s warm familiarity wash over him even from four thousand miles away.

“Uh, not quite. MJ discovered the word ‘boh’, though, so that’s fun.”

“Ah, she must love that. A real ambassador of the whole passive aggressive cool chick look, isn’t she?”, Tony chuckled, pausing for a moment as the line went silent between them save for the sound of their breathing. “What’s up, Pete? You’re antsy. I can feel it through the phone.”

“You’re the one who’s antsy”, Peter deflected quickly. He couldn’t let Tony catch on somehow that Peter’s vacation hadn’t gone to plan so far, because his martyr complex would take it as his moral obligation to fly over and fix it, and Peter couldn’t handle the guilt of knowingly putting Tony in danger. “I know you’re worried about the Doc, but you have to trust he’ll be okay. Maybe do something to take your mind off it?”

“Hey, who’s the parent here? Don’t worry about me, kid, just enjoy your trip.” A loud bang from Tony’s end of the line was followed by a string of curse words. “Oh, Jarvis! I told you last time, do that again and you’re back out on the streets, you little demon.” Tony sighed as he put the phone back to his ear. “The cat just pushed Jeremy down the stairs again. I have to go get her before she drags him around the entire house.”

“Okay, have fun with that”, Peter laughed. “Love you.”

“Love you too, kid. Remember to have fun.”

Peter sighed as the line went dead. “Easier said than done.”

*****

Still shaken from the attack, Peter was barely allowed a moment of peace before Nicky Fury was in his room with a tranquilizer gun, shooting Ned in the neck and telling Peter to suit up like he had an ounce of authority over him. But, seeing no other option, Peter had pulled on his first suit from Tony, swallowing any emotions that came with doing so. Fury had mentioned seeing Peter at the hospital after Tony’s Snap, but they agreed that wouldn’t have been an appropriate time to exchange numbers. One tense boat ride down the canal later, Fury introduced ‘Mysterio’ to him as Quentin Beck, and something within Peter’s innermost senses told him to be wary of this man no matter how much he looked like an eerie mix of Tony and Stephen, from the facial hair to the golden armour, to the deep burgundy cape hanging off his shoulders. While Peter tried to not be too homesick for Levi and his dads, Fury explained how Beck was from another Earth.

“There are multiple realities, Peter. This is Earth, Dimension 616. I'm from Earth 833”, Beck explained patiently, though Peter already knew about the existence of multiple universes despite the fact that this information alone blew his mind. He and the Doc had spent many long hours discussing the existence of parallel dimensions, Stephen explaining the magical qualities of such realities while Peter tried to wrap his mind around the physics. Still, he managed to look politely interested as Beck and Mariah Hill went on to explain the existence of the Elementals, one of which being the water creature that Peter and Beck had destroyed. Beck relayed the havoc these creatures had wrecked on his own world, of the lost lives and battalions put in place as the Elementals gained strength with each battle, only delaying the inevitable fate of their planet. It wasn’t until Fury mentioned that they wanted him to come with them to Prague, to help fight this final elemental creature, that Peter truly began to panic.

“I'm sorry. Did you say Prague?”, Peter asked with a nervous laugh, his heart squirming in his chest with anxiety. “Mr. Fury, this all seems like bigtime, you know, huge superhero kinda stuff. And, I mean, I'm just a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, sir.” Fury wasn’t impressed or perturbed.

“Bitch, please. You've been to space.”

** _Please. Please don’t mention that._ **

“I know, but that was an accident”, Peter explained, swallowing down his growing panic. Fighting Ebony Maw on the donut ship, the empty expanse of space before them, the battle against Thanos, dissolving into dust in Tonys arms. “Sir, come on. There's gotta be someone else you can use. What about Thor?”

“Off-world”, Fury supplied. Peter knew that Thor was in fact on Earth, in Wakanda with Bruce, but if Fury didn’t already know that, then Peter had a feeling he shouldn’t bring it up. At that moment more than anything, he wished that the Doc was in this dimension so he could call him for help. Peter knew that he was in way over his head with this whole elemental monster thing, and the truth of this reality settled in his chest as he realized he didn’t have the Sorcerer Supreme to call upon. With one dad unavailable, every nerve in Peter’s body was screaming to call Tony, but he tamped down those thoughts as quickly as they had come up.

Peter asked about Captain Marvel’s availability, only receiving a rather ominous response from Fury before pleading with the SHIELD director, mentioning the danger his true identity was in if his classmates saw him fighting as Spider Man, the second time since the incident at the Washington Monument. To Peter’s surprise, Fury relented and allowed him to return to the hotel, though he had an underlying suspicion that the director’s quick compliance was too good to be true. 

Peter’s intuition ended up being right as usual when Fury hijacked their planned route to Paris, obviously a subtle attempt at keeping Spider Man’s identity a secret while still enlisting Peter’s help. Peter took the opportunity of the sketchy-looking bus ride to Prague to open the early birthday gift Tony had imparted to him before he had left for the airport. They were making their way through Austria when Peter took the glasses case out of his backpack, incredibly light in his hands despite the somewhat old fashioned design of the case, but the glasses themselves barely weighed anything. The sturdy frames were featherlight on his face and indicative of the countless hours of work Tony had put in to improve upon the design even since his own latest model of the AI housing shades, though Tony’s were of course red and gold. Peter’s glasses were a sleek silver and black, the lenses a familiar blue light once activated that brought a half smile flickering across the teen’s face, his heart warming in his chest despite the anxiety that had been plaguing his body since Fury first showed up. 

Peter picked up the card nestled underneath the glasses which read:

_To the one and only Spider Man, I trust you._

_Love,_

_Dad ♡_

_P.S. say “Edith”_

Peter was shocked and overjoyed once the AI had confirmed his identity, greeting him pleasantly and introducing herself, saying that her name stood for “Even Dad I’m the Hero”. Peter chuckled softly to himself as EDITH explained that he now had access to all of Tony’s protocols. The teen never would have expected to receive a second AI from his mentor since he still had Karen as an interchangeable part of his first suit from Tony and the Iron Spider, but pride and gratitude swelled in Peter’s chest to realize that his dad trusted him with such advanced technology and all of the responsibility that came along with it. 

*****

Tony had started baking.

With Stephen in a different dimension and with no way of communicating with him, and Peter busy on his Europe trip, Tony found that he had resorted to leafing through the thick cookbook which had quickly become his go-to, the same one May had lent him before buying him his own copy out of the blue. 

Usually one to scoff at a physical, paper copy of something that could easily be electronic instead, Tony was grateful for the smooth pages which had quickly become dog-eared and batter-stained under his newfound interest in creating baked goods. Tony had always been a creator, even from the tender age of four with his first circuit board, though the measured confines of a cookie recipe often allowed his forever sprinting mind to slow down a little. Of course he experimented, but only to a certain extent when he realized the parameters of most recipes were closer to requirements than suggestions. Most importantly, thirty odd minutes of haphazardly following a recipe gave him the chance to pull his mind away from its anxious spiral, distracting him from the fact that Peter was thousands of miles away and Stephen wasn’t even in the same realm of reality. 

It was a dangerous situation, really, leaving a nervous eater alone with a newfound love for baking, but Tony had promised Stephen that he wouldn’t overdo it with the cookies. He had been both bemused and mortified when the sorcerer had asked Morgan to keep an eye on her dad’s intake of baked goods, assuring his partner that he had enough self control not to need his five year old daughter to monitor him. 

A week after Stephen had been called away, Tony was beginning to doubt his own claims. The longer Peter and Stephen were away, the more Tony’s anxiety turned into nerve-wracked baking, the harder he had to focus on packing the freshly baked brownies away in a container instead of sitting down with the tray, chanting quiet curses to himself as he locked himself in the basement on the treadmill. Of course he slipped every so often, easy as it was to absently pick at a tray of brownies or the odd cookie here and there throughout the day when his mind was elsewhere, doing anything to distract himself from falling into a full blown panic attack. 

As usual, Tony’s mind provided him with the worst case scenario possible when it came to Stephen especially being so far away. His first and most persistent fear was that Stephen just wouldn’t come back at all. Through one of the goddamn gateways into another dimension only to never return. Tony couldn’t dwell on that thought for any longer than two seconds before he almost blacked out from panic. The sorcerer had become such a huge part of his life, of his very physical being, that the thought of going on without him made Tony feel like his heart would stop flat out if this nightmare ever came to fruition. When these thoughts consumed him, Tony would have to sit on the floor and hug Taj to his chest, face buried in the mutt’s ruff while he tried to steady his own breathing, though laying flat out on the couch with Jarvis planted on the centre of his sternum like a three pound sentry was a good alternative. He always knew how good Taj was at helping with anxiety with the mutt’s predisposition to acting like a service dog, but Tony never would have imagined that this tiny kitten would help him as much as she did. He reminded himself to thank Stephen for his purring shadow of a birthday gift again when the sorcerer got home. _When_ he got home. 

Tony’s second greatest fear concerning Stephen’s impromptu departure was that he would come home alive, but he would be irreparably injured, physically or otherwise. Tony convinced himself that he would be able to handle if Stephen came back through that gateway crippled, or missing a limb, that he could bring himself to be that rock that Stephen had been for him since that fated day last April. But if the sorcerer’s damage was of the mind? Tony had never asked Stephen of the horrors he had seen, not when his partner’s eyes glazed over the way they did, dead and empty, whenever their conversation alluded to the travesties of his time as Sorcerer Supreme. So, Tony’s greatest fear became that he wouldn’t be strong enough to support his partner if Stephen came back with mind-altering PTSD. Tony knew that he couldn’t mentally handle supporting someone who’s mind tortured them even more than his own did to him, and the very thought ate his heart up in an acidic bath of guilt and self-loathing. 

Tony wasn’t naive to think that the stoic sorcerer didn’t already have memories that would send most people into cardiac arrest if they were to see the same, but he was safe with the knowledge that Stephen could handle the contents of his own mind thus far. He had bad nights, of course, mornings where Tony would come downstairs and realize that the sorcerer had never even come to bed, stock still and frozen in a mediative pose after letting one of his mental barriers slip a little. The weight of millions of realities and worlds whose safety depended on the Sorcerer Supreme often bore down heavily, but Tony had always admired how Stephen could carry that weight with seeming ease and grace, though he knew how reluctant his partner would be to ask for help even if he did need it. Despite everything he knew the sorcerer had endured, Tony often wondered with a heavy heart what his breaking point might be.

While trying to prevent his mind from eating him up from the inside out, Tony did his best to keep busy, though he found it difficult when his two current projects (Iron Sorcerer and EDITH) had left with two of the most important people in his life. Peter had called just the other night to thank him for EDITH again, but communication with the teen was sketchy at best most days. Tony didn’t blame him, of course, as he had been the one to encourage his kid to have fun on his vacation, though he had noticed something off about Peter the few times they had spoken on the phone, distracted almost, but had decided to write it off as a mixture of jet lag and excitement for the sake of avoiding the overbearing parent stereotype. He would have consulted May and Happy with his concerns, but he didn’t want to worry them over nothing just incase it was all in his head, and there was only so much he could bother them when they both had full time jobs and May’s charity organization to run. 

Tony would have usually gone to Rhodey to divulge some of his pent up anxiety, but the colonel was busy with work as usual, though he had made a point of swinging by the cabin in the War Machine armour every other day to see how Tony was faring. Feeling guilty about his codependence in the first place, Tony neglected to vent to his old friend even though he knew Rhodey would have listened with an ever patient ear, sending the colonel on his way to his next meeting with a cheek kiss and a healthy sized stack of caramel brownies. This left Tony to devote all of his attention to Morgan for the days he had her over at the cabin. The first week Stephen was away, Tony was relieved to have Morgan from Wednesday morning through to Sunday evening, the days going by faster when they could swim, bake, nap, and colour together, before dropping her off at Pepper’s townhouse with their usual routine of “Love you tons” and her resounding “Love you three thousand”. Going home to the nearly empty cabin, Tony would have dissolved quickly into panic if not for a hungry kitten and a rather concerned mutt who no doubt sensed his anxiety. 

As usual, Stephen had been right when he had assumed that Jarvis would feed Tony’s nurturing tendencies when Morgan wasn’t around to fulfill that drive to care that often served as Tony’s best distraction from his own mind. The fast-growing tabby kitten needed three meals a day, her litter box changed, help unsticking her claws from the curtains when she had climbed up them with no plans on how to get down, and Tony often recruited Taj’s help in chasing her down when Jarvis decided to drag potted plants through the house. All in all, Tony was grateful for the kitten’s presence, especially on the quiet nights when she’d curl up over his arc reactor scar and purr like tiny motorboat, the weight and vibration doing wonders on dislodging the knot of anxiety in Tony’s chest. Five days after Stephen had left, Tony wasn’t sure if the tight, solid ache under his breastbone was anxiety, his lonely half of the life force, or a combination of both, but he was relieved to realize that Jarvis’ presence seemed to help ease the pain either way. 

But Tony’s kitten-shaped anxiety relief wasn’t always on hand, and to make matters worse, Harley was in Tennessee for the second week of Stephen’s absence, visiting his sister and aunt while he had the time off from his summer job. By the time Monday morning rolled around, not even a day after dropping Morgan off at her mom’s, Tony knew he would have to find a different focus before he lost his mind completely. He’d never been very good at being left alone with his own self-destructive thoughts, but this was an entirely new situation in terms of reigning in a full on mental collapse. Without EDITH or the Iron Sorcerer armour to tinker with, Tony hunkered down in his basement office to draft up some agricultural tech he was designing for SI, something Pepper had pushed on him through his agreement to help with the worldwide sustainable food source plan. Completing those designs took up about three hours before Tony was fidgeting for something else to do. He sifted through the files of electronic sketches on his desk hologram, coming across his botched attempt at math for an inter dimensional tracker, the very same that he had threatened Stephen before his untimely departure to deal with a rogue source of black magic. 

Tony hemmed and hawed at the mathematical hieroglyphs he had scribbled across the projected page at various angles, doing some near fruitless research on his tablet before deciding he wasn’t going to get anywhere without some fresh air first. And an expert opinion. Standing from his chair with a soft groan, Tony thudded up the basement stairs, tablet in hand as he grabbed his keys and promised the pets that he would be back in time for dinner. The red paint of his Audi gleamed like a crimson bullet in the mid morning sun, reminding Tony bittersweetly of the Iron Man armour as he missed flying in it more than anything, the sun high in the sky as he pushed his unrest down further in his chest and pulled his shades on. The wind tousled his hair freely as he cruised down the back roads of Bethel, cybernetic fingers drumming a beat on the centre console to Stephen’s favourite Guns N’ Roses song blaring on the radio while the feeling of tearing down the road freely made his heart soar. Two hours later, he found himself on the now familiar route to the Sanctum, pulling up in the parking spot directly adjacent to the front doors which was always miraculously empty. 

Wong seemed almost expectant of Tony’s sudden appearance at the Sacntum, like he was checking off some sort of mental check list when he pulled open that ornate, heavy wood door. After fielding Tony’s rambling for several minutes, and refereeing the engineer’s attempts to question and prod at every available relic in sight, Wong bluntly asked Tony to get to the point, since they both knew that he wasn’t over just for an idle chat. Tony admitted his endeavour to create inter dimensional trackers, for his own peace of mind more than anything, but also of course for Stephen’s safety. Wong gave the closest thing to a smile Tony had ever seen at his words, offering his immediate help as he lead the engineer to the library instead of abruptly teleporting them there as Stephen was often prone to doing. After accumulating several large volumes of research, Wong surprisingly entrusted Tony with taking photos with his tablet of some of the pages which would be useful to him, though Tony pointed out he would have to implement a translating program just to read most of them. Snarky comment out of the way, Tony let himself appreciate that, after himself, Wong was probably the person most concerned about Stephen’s safety, though only taking second place due to Tony’s ignorance concerning mystic threats. 

Tony expressed his thanks, receiving the expected grunt of acknowledgment before admitting that his progress had been fairly slow in creating the trackers, though he assured Wong that the pages taken from the volumes on inter dimensional travel and communication would surely help. Wong met this information with thoughtful silence, and Tony was frankly shocked when the sorcerer offered to open a gateway for the engineer to visit their world’s other greatest mind in technology. Tony hid his surprise well as he accepted the offer gratefully, his usual stony perception of the librarian softening a little as he realized that beneath his dry, impatient exterior, Wong really cared. The librarian’s kindness was incredibly rare especially to the outside eye, normally hidden so well though it slipped through occasionally, usually at times when Stephen was concerned (like his panic attack in the bathtub months ago), so his intentions may have been incredibly one-sided, but Tony was glad to accept his help either way. 

Tony alluded to his own thoughts as he teased Wong about getting soft in his old age and the librarian huffed with almost affectionate exasperation as he opened a gateway to Wakanda, ensuring Tony knew it was fine to text him when he needed to come back. Tony tested his luck with another wry comment about how much Wong cared even though he was a crotchety bastard most of the time, and had to pull his foot through the gateway hurriedly before Wong allowed it to snap closed with a wry smirk. 

Tablet in hand, Tony strode up to the front doors of the Wakanda palace and was granted immediate access, receiving several respectful salutes which he returned graciously. Tony had never been one to adhere to authority, and the Wakandan version of monarchy still rattled his brain a little, but people changed, his views certainly had. Beside, T’Challa was a wise, level-headed king for his age, and of course Tony felt somewhat internally indebted to the country as a whole, particularly the doctors for their part in saving his life. Now fully healed and functional, Tony wouldn’t have had much reason to visit the country expect that their technological development made him feel like a kid in a candy store, further sweetened by the presence of the king’s own younger sister. Tony and Shuri had got on like a wildfire in dry grass from the get go, matching each other with brains and sarcasm alike, and Tony had been thrilled when Peter and the young genius princess had struck up a rather likely friendship. 

Locating Shuri in her lab as usual, Tony was pleasantly surprised to find that Bruce was with her as well. He and Bruce had been in close communication since the physicist and his Asgardian partner had visited the Sanctum several weeks ago, sharing their plans to stay on Earth until the Guardians passed by their planet next, and it seemed only logical that they would be taking up temporary residence at the Wakanda palace. Shuri was seated directly on her own work table when Tony walked in, greeting him excitedly and jumping off the table to exchange their usual fist bump, Tony’s chest aching as her presence made him miss Peter by mere association. Bruce greeted him a little more calmly, sitting at a bottom lit table with holographs projected in front of him, looking small and soft in an oversized green sweater and his messy grey curls. Tony was hit with a wave of nostalgia at seeing his old friend in a lab setting, Bruce pulling his glasses off with a grin, the style of which hadn’t changed much since their first meeting almost twelve years ago. Tony realized that he had definitely missed Bruce’s fully human form as they pulled each other into a warm hug, the brief physical contact doing wonders for Tony’s pent up anxiety as he pulled back and explained his current dilemma to them both. 

Leaning over his tablet, Bruce analyzed Tony’s chicken scratch equations that he had gathered so far, while Shuri immediately brought up the pictures he had taken from Wong’s books as holographs, multitasking as she heckled Tony about his cybernetic arm while reading the pages a mile a minute. Tony assured her that his arm was in perfect working order, leaning beside her on the work table to bring up a page that Wong had denoted special importance to in terms of inter dimensional communication. The three of them quickly divulged into focused, back and forth banter, throwing numbers at each other as Bruce helped them navigate the physics of multiple dimensions existing, Tony correcting him gently where needed based on what Stephen had told him about how many dimensions broke and bent the laws of physics within and between themselves. Tony was grateful to fall into the hyper focused, but flowing, comfortable work of a tough problem that required all of their combined expertise to make any headway on, realizing that the insistent whirring in his mind and the numb ache in his chest had dissolved almost to nothingness, listening intently to Shuri listing off the components the technology would require to work between dimensions. 

They worked well into the evening, the sun setting as a fluorescent orange circle over the dark horizon of the savannah, though Tony knew it would only be early afternoon when he got back home. They all stopping for an early dinner (lunch for Tony), which Thor joined them for in one of the palace’s common areas, greeting Tony with a careful hug once the god was certain that there weren’t an overprotective cloaks around to strangle him. The group settled on a wide bank of seats surrounding the low table, covered by dishes of varying complexity and all on colourfully painted clay plates, immersed in the heady, aromatic smells surrounding some of the cooked dishes. The food was simple, clean, and flavourful, hitting Tony like a pleasant awakening of the senses after he had been numbing himself on black coffee and rich baked goods for the past week. They diverted from lab talk for the time being, to give themselves a break and so Thor could join in the conversation, the topic of combining magic and technology to communicate across dimension a bit far fetched even for the Asgardian god. That’s what Tony had thought, at least, until Bruce mentioned to his partner what they had been working on and Thor offered his possible guidance in their endeavour. After that, they divulged into lighter conversation over dinner, Tony fighting to swallow the lump in his throat when Thor asked about Stephen. Noticing Tony’s distress, Bruce expertly diverted the god’s attention and the conversation elsewhere, and Tony could relax in the lull of Thor and Shuri empathically debating a Wakandan sport he didn’t know the name of, feeling his anxiety unravel completely in the company of some of his closest friends. 

****

Peter wasn’t exactly sure where it had all started to go wrong, but he could make a pretty good guess.

His first mistake was probably agreeing to help Beck fight the fire Elemental, something that was obviously still way out of Peter’s league considering the way his fight against the water creature had gone. It all started when he had to ditch MJ in the State Opera House, an attempt at confining his classmates with EDITH’s help, keeping them a safe distance away from the projected Elemental attack. Fury radioed him to be in position as Peter got Ned to cover for him while he rendezvoused with Beck at the city’s Carnival of Lights, not realizing that Ned and Betty had followed him out to the carnival until they got stuck on a ferris wheel. He and Beck fought to keep the enormous molten creature at bay until Peter could get Ned and Betty down, confused when his webbing hit an invisible force in the air instead of latching onto the metal frame as he had hoped. Trying to keep his friends from falling to a fiery death, Peter was latched onto the ferris wheel as Beck handled the creature solo, realizing that they had gone past the point of no return concerning the creature’s strength.

“Whatever happens, I’m glad we met”, Beck said as he flipped his helmet down to meet the teen’s eyes sorrowfully.

“Beck! What are you doing?!”, Peter yelled, panic ripping through his body as he recognized the look in the man’s eyes, the expression of someone who knew they were going to die and had decided to accept their fate with stoic dignity. For a split second, brown eyes flashed in front Beck’s blue ones in Peter’s mind, choking on his own premature grief. 

**_No, no, no, no, this can’t happen. Not again._ **

Before Peter could register what was happening, Beck was yelling in enraged determination as he summoned his glowing green power, red cape swirling around his shoulders in a way that reminded Peter so much of the Doc he almost threw up at the bitter association. Then Beck had pummelled head on into the fire Elemental’s chest, overcoming its molten body with his own magic. Peter could barely hear himself yelling as the creature exploded from within with the force of Beck’s energy, spotting the man’s still form on the cobblestone ground once the smoke had cleared, the teen’s throat hammering in his heart as he jumped down from the ferris wheel and ran to Beck’s crumpled form of red cloth and golden armour. 

“Mr. Beck?”, Peter asked in a wavering voice, nudging the man’s arm numbly as his heart restarted when Beck gasped weakly in response. “Oh, thank god”, Peter breathed, clasping the man’s hand in his own as he hauled him carefully to his feet, flashbacks to the Battle for Earth swarming through his mind as he remembered doing the exact same with Tony. Peter was gratefully jogged out of his memories when Fury came up to them, offering Beck a place in their attempt at rebuilding a new team of heroes since the Avengers had fallen into disarray for the second time. Peter was offered the same after a severe tongue-lashing from Fury.

“I'd love to have you in Berlin, too. But you've got to decide whether you're going to step up or not. Stark chose you. He made you an Avenger. I need that. The world needs that. Maybe Stark was wrong.” Fury paused for emphasis, looking sternly into Peter’s eyes, his voice low and dark. “Was he?” Peter felt panic flooding his chest as his eyes teared up on their own accord, blurring his vision as he fought for something coherent to say, but the only thing swimming through his mind was, **_‘I need my dad.’_** “The choice is yours”, Fury said finally, turning his back on Peter. 

Confusion and shame racked every cell in Peter’s body as he stared down at the ground, tears trickling down his cheeks. Back in 2017 when he was a bit younger and a lot more naive, he had wanted nothing more than to save the world single-handedly, but after everything that had happened, he would have done anything to just be allowed to stay close to the ground, be the friendly neighbourhood Spider Man that Tony had always convinced him to be from the start. Back then Tony’s words had been a thorn in his overly presumptuous side, but Peter’s experiences of space and aliens, dying and near death, had all made him realize that Tony had always just been concerned for his safety. And what he wouldn’t give to be allowed to enjoy the rest of his vacation, perfectly content to contain his Spider Man duties to New York for the rest of his life. 

Beck’s attempt at comforting him included drinks at a pub, leading to a discussion about responsibilities that turned Peter’s stomach the wrong way, explaining how Tony always wanted him to be better than him, something that seemed impossible despite his dad’s comforting words. After explaining his conflicted emotions, Peter was too immersed in Beck cajoling him about his true desire to fulfill his romantic plans with MJ to notice the metallic clatter of something light falling out of his pocket and to the floor. Feeling considerably better after being yelled at by Fury, Peter left the pub content with the knowledge that Beck would be able to take care of whatever threat hit the Earth next, part of Fury’s new team of heroes, the next Iron Man in a sense, and the figure that Peter knew he could never be himself. And now hopefully Peter would be able to enjoy the rest of his trip. 

*****

Peter had never been more wrong in his life.

After finding out their trip was being cut short due to elemental monsters popping out of the ground everywhere (as Ned had so eloquently put it), Peter’s confrontation with MJ on the bridge led to three huge revelations: MJ knew he was Spider Man, Beck was a fraud, and Peter had lost EDITH. MJ submitted a piece of tech with webbing on it as proof of her claims, and Peter was still reeling from the sudden reveal of his secret identity when said tech revealed an incomplete illusion of a scripted fight scene with Mysterio. Peter realized with a sinking heart that everything Beck had said, everything that had happened up until then with the supposed Elemental crisis was all a big lie and manipulation. Reaching for EDITH in his pocket, Peter realized in the very next second that the high tech AI glasses were gone, suddenly remembering the metallic clatter of something falling to the floor in the pub. He also remembered seeing Beck stoop to pick something up from the floor as Peter was leaving, but hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Panic rose up in Peter’s chest at the thought of such high grade security tech in Beck’s hands, Tony’s birthday gift to him, and the teen struggled to push down an oncoming anxiety attack. 

Peter didn’t see what else there was to lose as he quickly confessed to MJ that he was in fact Spider Man, as he also admitted to needing her help, ignoring her moment of gloating as they ran back to the hotel. Sprinting up the stairs as quietly possible, Peter busied himself with drawing the curtains over the windows as he cursed himself for being foolish enough to lose EDITH, filling MJ in hurriedly as he explained his plan to her. Peter pulled his black stealth suit out and began to get undressed before he froze, his eyes meeting MJ’s as they stared at each other in embarrassed shock. Peter’s first instinct was to cover his chest but he knew MJ had already seen his top surgery scars from the look on her face, wishing he could just hide under the bed as a million thoughts ran through his mind. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on particulars of their relationship when his main focus was to get to Berlin and warn Fury about Beck, but not before filling Ned in and asking his friend to cover for him. 

*****

After an eight hour train ride to Berlin, Peter supposed he shouldn’t have been so shocked to almost immediately run into Fury, or rather, Fury almost ran him over with a car before letting him get in the passenger side. Peter’s relief was short-lived, however, as the supposed headquarters Fury took him to turned out to be an illusion, Peter’s enhanced senses warning him at the last minute of Beck’s presence. He whipped around to see a series of weaponized drones, barely able to take a breath before they blasted Peter through the back wall, and he fell several stories onto hard concrete before Beck’s amplified voice filled his head. 

Peter felt like he had been put through a blender after that, his senses dialled even higher than their usual range as the sensory input was overwhelming, choking on his own fear as he tried to figure out what was real and what was just an illusion. Beck’s taunting flooded all of his senses, shooting his webs uselessly at several drones as he missed, their cloaking devices activating as they disappeared and more drones surrounded him. Everything went black as Peter found himself in his first suit from Tony, panting with fear as a sudden burst of light revealed a school corridor filled with green smoke, Beck lurching towards him in that mist-filled fish bowl helmet. 

Beck’s taunting continued as Peter tried to shoot strands of webbing at him, nothing but green smoke coming from his wrists, hearing MJ’s voice screaming distantly. Peter ran through a door and suddenly found himself on top of the Eiffel Tower, seeing an illusion of a terrified MJ standing there, everything dark and swirling in green smoke as Peter chanted in his head and finally out loud.

“I know this isn’t real!”

It was only when the illusion showed Mysterio grabbing MJ by the neck and throwing her off the tower that Peter began to question his own sanity as he dove after her, groaning loudly as he landed flat on his back, MJ’s screams still ringing through his ears. 

Ripped through the streets at breakneck speed, the illusion suddenly slammed to a halt as Peter stood in front of a building with a flashing neon sign that read “Queens” above it, Mysterio’s gigantic fist crashing through the front of the building to grab him and throw him backwards through a glass wall, free falling through the darkness as his heart cried out silently for help. He would have done anything to have Tony with him, but he also never would have forgiven himself for putting his dad in this kind of danger. Peter fell through a series of webs before he landed flat on his back on a car, the illusion momentarily lifted (back in his black stealth suit) as the teen rolled off the car onto the concrete, panting with exertion and the anxiety flooding his chest as he got to his feet and spun around, trying to see all around him at once.

Peter looked up and darkness consumed the sky as the illusion descended once again as huge shards of glass rained down, the teen’s reflection turning into mock copies of himself, tearing at him as he was back in his first suit from Tony. The illusions of himself faded away as Peter suddenly found himself in his homemade suit, the one from before he had met Tony, met with nothing but darkness and green mist all around him. 

“You are just a scared little kid in a sweatsuit!”, Mysterio chided, bringing Peter’s own greatest doubts about himself out in the open. Beck began to attack him as he ranted about the power and belief he had surrounded himself with, shooting lasers at Peter as the teen back flipped to avoid them, accidentally almost pulling a crane on top of himself when he tried to shoot a pair of web strands at Mysterio. He managed to avoid the crane, but not the stone arm of the statue that fell on top of him as Beck continued shooting lasers at him, yelling in fear as he was certain he had been crushed. 

Instead, the green smoke cleared a little and Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach as his eyes landed on a gravestone which read ‘Anthony Edward Stark’, feeling like he was going to black out as his greatest fear manifested before him. 

“You’ve fucked up, Peter. Again”, Mysterio sighed, almost as if he were bored. “Now Daddy’s gonna come have to clean up your mess. Again. You don’t really want to be responsible for killing Tony Stark, do you?” A mechanized hand burst out of the ground right in front of Peter, trying to grab him as Peter yelled and scurried back in fear. He felt bile rise in his throat as the illusion showed Tony’s partially decomposed corpse crawling out of the grave in an Iron Man suit, hovering in the air in front of Peter as a black widow spider crawled out of the eye socket. 

Peter must have blacked out for a moment as there was a loud bang and the illusion vanished suddenly as Beck, in a mo-cap outfit, fell to his knees while Fury limped towards Peter, black SUV’s rolling in from all areas of the construction site. Several guns were held on Beck while Fury started to question Peter as to who else he had told about Beck’s betrayal, finally spilling his friend’s names as he questioned why Fury was laughing.

“I mean, you're smart as a whip”, Fury explained. “Just a..sucker.” Fury’s voice changed to Beck’s as the last piece of the illusion lifted to show Beck standing once again in his mo-cap suit in Fury’s place. “And now all your friends have to die.” The illusion crashed around Peter as a falling building, giant glass shards, and pieces of statue as he backed up away from Beck, panting with fear and pain. Beck’s apology was the last thing he heard before the train hit him. 

*****

Everything hurt. Everything hurt, but Peter got out of the municipal holding facility in the Netherlands that he’d somehow wound up in, limping through the streets with the too-bright sunlight making his head ache. He borrowed a phone from a surprisingly friendly local, about to dial Tony’s number when all the reasons he couldn’t call him came rushing back in his numb, shock-soaked, sleep-deprived mind: Tony’s Snap, Mysterio’s illusion of Tony’s death, taunting him about bringing his dad into trouble once again. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t face that kind of guilt. So, with Stephen unavailable in another dimension, Peter called the next best person. 

Peter had never been so happy to see the SI jet as he limped away from the town, through a field of tulips in neat rows of vibrant colours, the sleek silver jet sticking out like a sore thumb as it hovered above the flowers. The door of the jet folded out onto the field as Happy came trudging down the stairs, squinting to see him as Peter was conflicted between his initial relief and the paranoia that Beck’s illusion attack had left him with. After Happy proved himself to be his genuine, non-electronic self by embarrassing the teen even with no one else around, Peter limped forward gratefully to fall into his uncle’s arms, feeling the former bodyguard wrap him up in a tight hug that hurt Peter’s bruised ribs, but he didn’t care.

Back on the jet, they bickered quietly about the limits of Peter’s super strength while Happy stitched up one of the larger cuts on his shoulder, groaning as the man’s less than nimble fingers drove the needle in a little too aggressively. Peter felt frustrated rage boiling in his chest as Happy told him to relax for the fifth time, standing suddenly and whirling around to face him, on the verge of tears. 

“Don't tell me to relax, Happy! How can I relax when I've messed up so bad?” Tears threatened to fall and Peter didn’t even care about crying in front of Happy anymore. He’d seen him cry dozens of times by now, between his nightmares and anxiety attacks. “I trusted Beck. Right? And I lost the birthday gift Dad gave me only for Beck to take it, and now he's going to kill my friends and half of Europe, so please do not tell me to relax.” Peter dropped into a seat as he ran his hands through his hair with nervous, emotional energy, muttering softly. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't shout. I just…I keep messing up, but I can’t pull Dad into this.” Happy grimaced in silent agreement, nodding knowingly. 

“I know. He’d be over here in three seconds flat, but I kinda feel like that’s our only option right now”, Happy shrugged, though Peter could see how much saying so pained him. “Stephen is god knows where in another dimension, so we can’t call him. We need Iron Man for something like this, okay?”

“No, no, no. Don’t call him, Happy, please don’t call Dad. You know how he is”, Peter pleaded immediately, head snapping up to face his uncle. “He’s done. He’s retired. The world needs to accept that Tony doesn’t owe them anything anymore, even if they keep asking who’s going to be the next Iron Man.” Something crumbled in Peter’s chest as he tried to remember Tony’s words from before he had left for the airport, wiping his nose and sniffing as his voice wavered with tears. “People keep hinting that that might be my job, but…I don't know if that's me, Happy. I'm not Iron Man.”

“You're not Iron Man”, Happy agreed calmly, holding Peter in his gaze levelly. “You're never going to be Iron Man. Nobody can live up to Tony. Not even Tony. Tony’s my best friend. And he’s a mess. He’s second-guessed everything he’s ever done, he’s always been all over the place. I think the one thing he’s done that he hasn’t second-guessed was picking you. He has picked you for a reason, Peter, because he trusts you, and he knows you’re ready.” Happy raised an eyebrow, some of his usual brusque demeanour returning as he straightened in his own seat, though his voice was still softer than usual. “Now. Your friends are in trouble. You're all alone. The tech is missing. What are you gonna do about it?”

*****

What Peter did about it was build a suit. He built a new suit for himself with AC/DC cranked like he and Tony always had in the workshop while Happy flew them to London, biting back bittersweet tears as he mentally prepared himself for the fight of his life. This time, he knew how to read the drones, blocking out the darkness and green swirling smoke as he let his senses tell him where they were. He blocked out the illusions, the only thought that he let slip through the back of his mind being that he couldn’t let himself get killed in this fight, the reality of how much something happening to him would hurt both Tony and May keeping his discipline in check. And Peter wasn’t so disturbed anymore by death, relieved to have EDITH back in his command as he watched Beck die in front of him, face pale and eyes glassy as he watched the life drain from him, hauntingly familiar despite how numb Peter felt

Bruised and battered and bleeding, panting breathlessly, the entire fight could have lasted an entire year or ten seconds and Peter wouldn’t have known the difference as he stumbled through the rubble and wrecked cars to find MJ. She dropped the mace she was holding and ran forward to wrap Peter up in a tight hug, all of her walls dropping as she clung to him like her life depended upon it. Peter asked her if everyone was alright, and MJ confirmed their safety before asking him about the drones, and his part in stopping Beck. It was then that MJ pulled out her broken Black Dahlia necklace that Peter had passed off to Happy, his heart breaking with the shattered pieces, rambling an apologetic explanation before MJ dipped forward to peck him on the lips quickly. 

Peter stuttered and fumbled over the sudden kiss, reminding himself of Tony’s words before his prom dance about how when you found the right person they made you feel safe. Peter had never felt safer despite his jitters as they leaned into another peck on the lips before MJ pulled him in properly for a sweet kiss despite the blood beginning to dry on his upper lip. His heart was still remembering how to beat properly as he realized that MJ obviously didn’t care about seeing his top surgery scars and what they meant, she liked him for who he was. Sure, it was awkward when they pulled apart, but her smile was like sunshine as she walked away mace in hand, and Peter managed a small skip of joy despite his limp as he went the opposite way across the bridge. 

*****

A surprisingly cool breeze for the third week of July blew through the wind chimes on the front porch as Tony took up his usual seat on one end of the cushioned porch swing, a light cardigan pulled around his shoulders to combat the unusually brisk summer afternoon. Jarvis was in her usual spot curled up on his chest as he leaned back against the cushions, reading glasses perched on his nose as he perused an article on his tablet about inter dimensional travel. Tony had kept up his relentless research ever since Stephen’s departure nearly two weeks ago, still waiting anxiously for the sorcerer’s impending return home, though he reminded himself that it could take up to a month before Stephen might be able to come back to his own dimension. Tony had done a better job of managing his own anxiety than he’d even expected, but that didn’t mean there had been bad days. Last night was a good example, currently running on about three hours of sleep as he had tossed and turned well into the wee hours of the morning, finally drifting off into an uneasy sleep sometime around four a.m. 

Taj’s sudden booming bark jolted Tony out of his thoughts, the mutt scrambling to his feet as he stood from his place beside the porch swing and trotted over to greet May’s black Hyundai making its way down the winding driveway. Jarvis mewed her distaste at being disturbed as Tony scooped her gently off his chest, letting her settle back on the warm seat cushion as he stood to trail Taj down the front steps. Expecting May for an impromptu solo visit, confusion swarmed over Tony’s face when Peter climbed out of the back seat, a weak grin plastered across the teen’s mouth that made Tony’s heart quake in his chest.

“Hey, you’re home early. What happened?”, Tony asked, his question mostly directed to Happy who had climbed out of the passenger side with a pinched expression. He could immediately tell that something was wrong from the look on his friend’s face, but May’s gratefully warm, almost cheerful smile threw him off. 

“Things didn’t exactly go as planned”, Peter admitted, his eyes flickering over Tony like he was trying to see past a hazy mist. Peter had somehow been able to keep it together in front of May when she picked him up at the airport, but seeing Tony broke something in his chest chest, vision blurring with tears as he limped towards his dad.

“You’re limping”, Tony stated with concern rising in his voice, brows drawn together as he walked towards Peter, arms open in question while his gaze danced between his friend and his kid. “Why are you limping? Happy, why is my kid limping? What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything”, Happy snapped back, immediately defensive as Tony noted the stress the former bodyguard always held as tension in his broad shoulders. “Like Peter said, things didn’t go as planned, but I gave him a hand. And…just don’t freak out, okay?” Tony sputtered mutely, about to ask him how those words were at all reassuring when Peter cut in, still standing back several feet away from Tony. 

“This is real? You’re alive?”, Peter croaked out, tears in his eyes as he gauged Tony’s appearance like he was trying to determine if a snake was venomous or not. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, of course I’m okay”, Tony gaped at him in confusion, brow furrowing further in concerned. The teen nearly knocked the wind out of him as he immediately fell into the engineer’s arms, wrapping his crushing grip around Tony’s ribcage. “What’s gotten into you, kid?”, Tony rasped gently, hugging his kid tightly to his chest, threading his good hand gently through his soft brown curls as he tried to comfort him wordlessly. Tony’s question was met with silence as Peter’s face was buried in his dad’s shoulder gratefully, Happy giving him an almost guilty look as his gaze landed on the quaking teen. “Someone better fucking tell me what’s going on”, Tony snapped, terrified by their weighed silence more than anything as impending dread built in his mind, weighing heavily on his chest. 

May suggested they all go inside to have this conversation, but Tony was reluctant, compromising as the four of them sat on the porch and he listened to their summary of what had happened in the past week and a half. The concern that had been planted into Tony’s chest quickly bloomed into full blown horror as he listened to mostly Peter’s retelling of the nefarious plans of one of Tony’s former employees by the name of Quentin Beck. The name was foggy in Tony’s mind, but that small detail was quickly lost in the guilt and anger that consumed his entire body when Happy helped Peter piece together everything that had happened from the Netherlands onward. Tony felt himself zoning out of the conversation well before Peter finished his quick recapture of the battle against Beck, his own breathing coming shallow as he realized the danger his son had been in without him even knowing. He refocused to realize that Peter was looking at him expectantly, signalling the end of his story as a second of silence fell between them before Tony erupted. 

“You knew about this?! You were with him and you didn’t let him call me, Happy?!”, Tony asked in disgusted horror, standing from his seat suddenly as he turned on his friend. Taj barked at Tony a few times, whining worriedly as he nudged his muzzle against Tony’s good hand, always ready to distill the few arguments that ever broke out around the household. Peter reached out to the dog, petting his ears to soothe him while May noticed Taj’s distress as well and fixed Tony with her calmly chiding gaze.

“Tony, you need to calm down a bit, okay? You’re not helping Peter or yourself by getting all worked up over it now.” Tony frowned almost sheepishly in acknowledgement before returning his focus to his head of security. 

“He didn’t want to call you, Tony”, Happy retorted once Tony met his eyes again, brow furrowed defensively. “_We _didn’t want to see you in danger after everything’s that happened, with the Snap and-.” Tony snarled, spitting out Happy’s excuse with shame flooding his body, frustrated that his own son saw him as a helpless, unstable war victim. 

“You should have called me! My Snap be damned, alright?!”, Tony almost pleaded as he turned to Peter, arms burning with the desire to hold him again now that he knew he had nearly lost him, but the anger and shame burning in his chest won out, feeling betrayed by his own kid’s lack of faith in him. “You know that you should have called me, Peter!” The hurt look he got in return for yelling at Peter was enough to crack his hear in two. 

“I know that, okay, Dad? But I couldn’t watch you almost die again”, Peter said with a deathly calm tone despite the way his voice wavered with threatening tears, May resting a comforting hand on his forearm. “I couldn’t live with that, knowing I had done that to you.” Tony could only gape at him helplessly, hating himself for ever snapping in the first place, for not being smart enough to figure out a different way to save the world, a way that didn’t make his kid feel like he couldn’t go to him for protection anymore.

“You’re my kid. It’s my job to protect you”, Tony forced out huskily, air catching in his throat as he sunk back down into his chair weakly, leaning against the arm of the chair numbly as his left wrist started to ache. Angry at himself more than anything, but trying to hide it, Tony gripped his wrist in his cybernetic hand tightly to try and stop the tremors wracking through it as he met Peter’s eyes with resignation. “So, you took care of this Mysterio guy all on your own? Good thing I gave you EDITH early, after all. But you don’t need your old man anymore, eh?”

“That’s the whole point”, Peter whimpered, his composure breaking as May wrapped an arm around his shoulders, patting his hair softly as tears trickled down the teen’s cheeks. “Of course I still need you, that’s why I couldn’t call you. I couldn’t watch you-.” Peter cut himself off with a sob, and Tony opened his arms reflexively, the teen stumbling over to him blindly as he fell into his dad’s lap. Tony cradled his son like a baby in his arms as Peter clung to his neck, legs slung across Tony’s lap even though he was much too big to fit, pressed against his dad’s strong, comforting softness like his life depended on it. Peter sobbed into his shoulder as Tony rocked him slowly, hushing him and pressing soothing kisses to his boy’s hair. Eyes closed as he muttered soothing nonsense, Tony wasn’t sure how much time passed before Peter’s sobbing subsided, the teen taking shaky breaths as he sniffed quietly and refused to let go of his dad. When Peter started to calm down a little, May had to gently pry him off Tony’s lap, guiding him inside carefully with the suggestion of splashing cold water on his face, the teen giving her a silent, red-eyed nod in response. Once Tony was sure they were inside and out of earshot, he turned to Happy, growling softly.

“I’m still fucking pissed at you for not calling me. You’re the adult, you should have realized that he needed help.”

“He had it under control, okay, Tony?”, Happy said calmly, though his words only further stoked the engineer’s anger. “And we didn’t have a lot of other options, especially with Stephen gone.” Tony immediately swallowed the panic the absent sorcerer’s name brought to his chest, leaning forward as he looked in his friend’s eyes almost accusingly. 

“Do you see him?”, Tony hissed, jerking a thumb back towards the door. “He’s a mess. Do you really think he needs even more of this traumatic bullshit before he even hits his eighteenth birthday?"

“None of that would be as traumatic as losing you”, Happy pointed out levelly, apparently not willing to rise to Tony’s level of seething anger. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Hap?!”, Tony whisper-yelled, struggling to keep his voice below normal speaking volume in hopes of avoiding Peter’s detection. “I would do anything to protect my kid, and you didn’t even give me the chance to!” Tony’s chest was beginning to ache, right under his artificial sternum where his life force was stored, burning with grief and heartbroken love as he tried desperately to express his frustration. “How would you have felt if he had gotten killed just because you were both too proud to call me? And don’t tell me about losing people when I’ve already lost him, okay?”, Tony hissed, jabbing a cybernetic finger against Happy’s chest, meeting the taller man’s eyes with venom. 

“Everyone in this family has had to watch you almost die too many times, Tony”, Happy growled, voice low as he struggled to keep his composure, the closest Tony had seen him to tears since Peter’s graduation. “Too many suicide missions and too many close calls. Peter and I didn’t want to put ourselves through that yet again.”

“I lost him once, Happy! I can’t do_ that_ again!”

“And you can’t make him lose another dad!”, Happy finally yelled, lashing out as he shook his head at Tony almost in enraged disappointment. “Okay? The kid’s been through enough, Tony! Don’t make him lose you too on top of it all.” Tony gaped at his former bodyguard in offended shock before his words sunk in, knowing that Happy’s emotionally-repressed tendencies would never allow him to say it out loud, but he cared about Peter just as much as the engineer did. Something in Tony’s eyes softened, relieved after nearly two weeks of stress to just finally have his kid back safely, standing as he opened his arms up to Happy in an almost lackadaisical gesture.

“What are you doing?”, Happy asked in bewilderment, still seated in his deck chair as he look up at Tony.

“Just stand up”, Tony grumbled, keeping his arms open as he looked away in embarrassment, wishing his friend could be a little more perceptive sometimes. “I want to give you a hug, you big oaf. So I don’t have to apologize with words? ‘Cause that’s hard.” Happy rolled his eyes with a huff as he stood and let Tony wrap his arms around his middle. The engineer was mildly annoyed that he barely came up to his chin, but rested his cheek against Happy’s suit clad shoulder without any outward complaint. 

“I’m sorry too, boss. We just care about you a lot, okay?”, Happy rasped as he hugged him back gently, and Tony pulled back quickly before either of them started crying again.

“Okay, enough of that, then”, Tony said brusquely, brushing imaginary lint off Happy’s shoulder. “Uh, why don’t you come in? The three of you can stay and have some coffee and brownies. Yeah? I’ve been baking too much. And after the week you two have had, it sounds like you could use it.” Happy relented with a sigh and gratefully accepted as Tony held the screen door open for him, doing his best to focus on the relief of having Peter back and ignore the sorcerer-shaped hole in his chest as they sat down as a family at the kitchen table. Stephen’s chair was hauntingly empty until Jarvis hopped up on the seat and begged for cookies. Tony did his best to hide his crumbling heart as he cradled the kitten against his chest, silently praying to the Vishanti or whoever Stephen was always muttering about, that his partner would be able to come home safely as Peter had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, yeeting Stephen into another dimension was the only way to let Mysterio remain as an actual tangible threat. Doctor Dad would have wiped the concrete with Beck’s ass in three seconds flat if Peter had called him.
> 
> Mind you that this chapter is three weeks after the last one, so Harley has had some time to process Stephen confronting him before they went to Pride.
> 
> If Stephen and Harley’s conversation about his sexuality sounds extremely structured and like a scientific analysis, it’s because it is. They’re both scientists, a doctor and a budding engineer/mechanic. They both feel better approaching things with formulas and data. Also Stephen is awkward with emotions, and Harley just avoids them all together, so this approach was the only way that this conversation would have ever happened lmao
> 
> And before you bash on me for Harley not knowing anything about LGBTQ+ labels or such when the internet is a thing, be reminded that he’s from a small, rural town in Tennessee. Any questioning of his sexuality would have been severely frowned upon, so he just shoved it deep and ignored it, instead of risking still having a roof over his head, ya feel?


	26. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the truth hurts our loved ones more than the secrets we keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to sincerely apologize for the long absence. I’ve been dealing with a death in my family the past month, so writing just hasn’t happened. Thanks for everyone who has stuck with this fic, and I promise I will NEVER abandon it, even if updates take a little longer sometimes. Love you all 14,000,606 <3
> 
> OH YAEH I should have mentioned forever ago that I also have an Instagram art account under @nanosorcerer if y'all are interested in some Supreme Iron fam and IKYFAD art <3<3<3
> 
> Did anyone order uuuhhhh,,, a healthy plate of angst with a side of fluff??
> 
> Hav ei MENTIONE DHOW MUCH i LOVE IRON FAM???? “Forehead of security” is still the fucking funniest thing to me. I just love them all so much <3<3<3  
(“Good. I’d be worried you were cursed or something if you started not trusting me”, Tony muttered in an attempt at normality.) Y’all have NO IDEA how much this line is gonna hurt in the next few chapters. :’)  
The shower scene is 100% a mirror image parallel of Stephen’s bathtub anxiety attack in chapter 20, just so we’re clear. It’s neat to see the changes their relationship has gone through in terms of increased trust and understanding.  
Tony has threatened to abandon Levi now, they are officially part of the family

Peter’s first ‘swinging date’ with MJ (a working title) could have gone better, but it also could have gone a lot worse. 

Peter had learned to expect the worst at every turn, so he was often pleasantly surprised when the world didn’t come crashing down around his ears. Just three days after they had returned home from their Europe tripe, Peter hadn’t anticipated MJ’s panic as they had gone for a fairly leisurely swing through the city, landing in Madison Square Garden when his new girlfriend had practically begged for him to put her down, letting her stand on the pavement carefully as she still clung to him. Peter also hadn’t accounted for MJ’s absurd amounts of (beautiful, curly) hair which had managed to cover the ocular windows of his mask a few times mid swing, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Despite their date being cut fairly short by MJ’s newfound fear of heights, Peter was feeling pretty good about himself as he jumped up onto the top of a lamppost, turning around to wave a goodbye to make sure his girlfriend wasn't too frazzled. Turning back around, Peter was nearly knocked off his post when a sudden loud announcement came over several electronic billboard screens around the city. So called breaking news turned out to be botched footage from one of Beck’s drones, as Peter found an altered version of one of his own worst nightmares playing out once again on the massive screen in front of him. 

“We come to you now with revelations about last week's attack in London”, the news anchor announced, dread planting a seed in the pit of Peter’s stomach as he hung on to every word. “An anonymous source provided this video, it shows Quentin Beck, aka, Mysterio, moments before his death. A warning, you may find this video disturbing.” The screen then cut to altered footage of their battle on the Tower Bridge, Beck’s face inches from the camera, his Mysterio costume added digitally over the mo cap suit he had actually been wearing during his death. 

“I managed to send the Elemental back into the dimensional rift, but I don't think I'm gonna make it off this bridge alive. Spider-Man attacked me for some reason. He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else.”

Peter felt like he had just been kicked in the stomach, his ears ringing as he looked down at where MJ was still standing in muted horror, the dread-hardened expression on her face enough to confirm to Peter that he wasn’t imagining the sickening altered reality on the screen, the screen that thousands of people were watching. The screen that was exposing him as a murderer, the usurper to the Iron Man throne, despite that being the last thing he would ever want. 

“Are you sure you want to commence the drone attack?”, EDITH’s voice came over the screen, though the camera only showed Peter’s legs, focused mainly on Beck’s dead body slumped against the railing of the bridge. “There will be significant casualties.”

“Do it! Execute them all!”, came Peter’s voice loud and clear from the screen, though he could hear the trembling in his own voice behind those confident, fake words. The sound of drones firing and people screaming were heard on the screen and Peter was wavering in place on top of the lamp post, limbs quivering as he fought the urge to throw up with the force of the fear and disgust coursing through his body.

“This shocking video was released earlier today on the controversial news website, ‘[TheDailyBugle.net](http://thedailybugle.net).’”, the news anchor reported as he came back on screen, switching to a set up with J. Jonah Jameson on the news screen, a balding, weasely-looking man that made Peter’s stomach flip even before he spoke. 

“There you have it, folks. Conclusive proof that Spider-Man was responsible for the brutal murder of Mysterio! An inter-dimensional warrior who gave his life to protect our planet, and who will no doubt go down in history as the greatest superhero of all time.” Despite the gravity of what was happening, Peter couldn’t help but scoff at this statement. Clearly this guy hadn’t heard of Iron Man? “But that's not all, folks. Here's the real blockbuster. Brace yourselves, you might wanna sit down.” The screen cut to another burst of altered footage from on the Tower Bridge, the original recording breaking up as the screen flickered in and out of transmission, Beck’s face bloody and panicked as he looked over his shoulder fearfully, as convincing an actor as ever. 

“Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is P-.” The audio and video were cut off into pixels, becoming grainy, and Peter took the chance to quickly pull EDITH out of the protective band on his forearm, sliding the shades on over his mask.

“EDITH, disrupt the transmission”, Peter said as clearly and quietly as possible, despite the way his voice was warbling with fear, every inch of his body vibrating with unjust loathing at the man who had attempted to frame him for murder, the man who had tried to kill him and ruin his life, whichever came easier. The screen cut to grey blankness before switching back to the befuddled news anchor, the man apologizing about technical difficulties, a vain attempt being made at finding and displaying the video again before the screen went back to regularly scheduled news updates without another word.

“EDITH, delete all traces of that footage they just showed. Make sure no one has those videos in any form”, Peter commanded as he lowered himself to the ground by a string of webbing attached to the lamp post, landing on the ground with shaky legs quivering beneath him. 

“Already done, Peter. Contacting Happy and Mr. Stark to alert them of the situation”, the AI informed him pleasantly, her almost motherly voice having a soothing affect on him (probably something Tony had done consciously when creating both the glasses AI and Karen). Peter didn’t bother to resist letting Happy and his dad know, as he was usually itching to prove himself capable of handling difficult situations on his own, but Peter know that this was well out of his hands. He barely registered what MJ was saying, probably something comforting, as she came up to gather him in her arms, pulling him into a hug that made his weakened legs and trembling even more apparent. He couldn’t do this alone. 

*****

“I’m the head of security! This is my division, Tony, you need to step back for once and let me handle this”, Happy spouted uselessly at the shorter man, Tony’s jaw set in that telltale stubborn fashion that meant he wasn’t going to be backing down anytime soon.

“Forehead of security”, Tony retorted teasingly, standing on tiptoe to flick the former bodyguard on the forehead, luckily with his good hand to avoid any serious bruises. “And that’s a different type of security. This is personal security. _Peter’s_ security. I’m not stepping back when it comes to my kid, Happy. He’s my kid, his safety is my business, alright? Let me help with this. Besides…”, Tony gestured exasperatedly at Peter, who was beginning to feel like more of a burden than anything. “He’s not Stark Industries property, Hogan! SI is your division, and that’s it.”

“Not even as family?”, Happy tried with a smirk, eyes glinting in amusement as he saw Tony deflate slightly, knowing that he had him there. 

“Of course as family”, Tony wheedled, changing gears quickly as he spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “You’re family, Hap, no one’s denying that. I’m just saying that this has to be done without any glitches, for Peter’s protection and safety, I don’t want you to take too much on your plate, alright?”, Tony asked with a self-assured grin, seemingly confident that he had made appropriate amends with his friend and head of security. 

“Glitches?!”, Happy snapped, and Tony wilted as he realized his mistake. “Are you insinuating that I’m prone to glitches?”

“Well, there was that one time with the jet”, Tony admitted cautiously, chancing a tentative pat on the burly man’s arm in an attempt at calming him down. “Remember, when we were selling the tower and-?”

“That was not my fault! There was a man with _wings_, Tony! _Wings_! What the hell did you want me to do?”

Blocking out their conversation once the Vulture was brought up, Peter had only been mildly distracted from his own emotional distress by the two men’s bickering argument with one another, grateful for the comforting weight of Taj’s head in his lap as he sat on the cabin sofa and pet the mutt’s fluffy ears. 

After EDITH had gotten in contact with Tony and Happy, the former bodyguard had picked both Peter and MJ up in Madison Square Garden with the car, dropping MJ off at home once she had threatened Happy within an inch of his life if anything happened to her boyfriend in his care. Happy had called May on their way back to the apartment, agreeing that the cabin would be the best place for Peter to deal with the aftermath of such a traumatic experience, and for them to decide (along with Tony) what to do next in terms of keeping the teen’s identity safe from more attempts at botching what had actually happened in London. May had sat in the back seat on the drive up to the cabin, one arm wrapped around her boy as Peter rested his head on her shoulder, soothed by the familiar vanilla scent of her hair like he had when he was a little kid. 

The look on Tony’s face was disturbingly haunted when they pulled up at the cabin and met the engineer on the front porch, who pulled Peter into a warm hug before he had ushered them all inside to talk things out in the living room. Their conversation hadn’t been very productive yet as Happy and Tony had dissolved into their usual friendly bickering (luckily Morgan was at her mom’s house so she didn’t have to hear them arguing), while May searched for the good tea Stephen always had stashed away in the kitchen somewhere, determined to make Peter a cup of chamomile to help him relax. 

“She’s never gonna find that tea. Doc’s like a squirrel stashing nuts away for winter with those tea leaves, especially the ones he brings in the fancy ass little metal boxes from Kamar Taj”, Harley observed shrewdly as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere, dropping onto the sofa beside Peter and petting Taj’s head gently, the mutt’s ears pricking up at the mention of his namesake. Peter was slightly thrown off by the older boy’s sudden amiability, shock still drenching his nerves from the near reveal of his identity, staring at Harley blankly for a several seconds before coming up with something remotely intelligent to say. 

“I don’t like tea anyway. Not unless Doc makes it”, Peter muttered quietly enough so May couldn’t hear from the kitchen, though he was mostly drowned out by the sound of Tony and Happy’s argument which had moved to the dining room by now. “He says he makes it with love, though I’m pretty sure he uses magic to make it perfect every time”, Peter grinned in an attempt at affectionate humour, but his anxiety made it come off as more of an unfortunate grimace. He hadn’t slept in five days, the last three nights being restless ones at home (the Queens apartment) where he couldn’t get Beck’s voice out of his head, pulling all nighters just to avoid the inevitable nightmares, thoughts of Beck’s taunting about Tony’s death and his own consuming Peter’s mind even in broad daylight. All of Peter’s problems swirled around in his head at once as he allowed himself to think about just how scared he had been in Europe, how much he missed his Doctor dad, wishing Tony would stop bickering with Happy for five seconds and just come give him another hug. 

“You doing okay, Parker?”, Harley asked a little less nonchalantly than usual, almost sounding like he cared a little as he raised a concerned brow, and it was only then that Peter realized he had started to tear up, several tears trickling onto his face unnoticed. 

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m fine”, Peter assured, swiping at his cheeks quickly to collect any stray tears, leaning forward to hide his face against Taj’s furry ruff. “I just gotta…deal with all this shit, and-“, he pointed in the direction of their dad and uncle’s loud arguing, “-they’re not exactly helping right now. I’m just…” Peter pulled his head back to see Taj looking at him in concern, the big mutt licking his cheek softly, and Peter broke at the tender gesture. “I’m just really fucking tired, and I feel like I keep messing up, you know?”, he asked the older boy as tears rolled hotly down his cheeks, some of them dripping off his chin to land in Taj’s fur. 

“No, that’s not right”, Harley said decisively, grey blue eyes looking almost offended at the implication behind his red-framed glasses, a subtle attempt at mirroring Tony, to be certain. “I’m the screw up, Parker. You’re the one who gets stuff right all the time.”

“You’re not a screw up”, Peter said quickly, meeting the older boy’s eyes with a crumbling expression. “And, okay. Maybe I’m not messing things up, but I feel like the world is out to get me, and I always gotta make it someone else’s problem, don’t I? I just feel like, around every corner, there’s someone trying to kill me”, Peter chuckled bitterly as he shrugged in bewilderment. “I know it sounds selfish, but I can’t catch a freaking break, and I’m just…tired.” Peter blamed his spidey senses for not warning him as Harley clasped a gentle hand on his shoulder, awkward and uncertain, but a comforting weight nonetheless.

“Hey, man, you’re not selfish”, Harley assured him steadily, looking Peter in the eyes with the most sincerer expression the teen had ever seen on his face, without any of his usual guarded smugness or sarcasm. “You do deserve a break, after all the shit you’ve been through. I mean…” Harley paused, perhaps realizing that he had made them both far too vulnerable with that sentence, back-pedalling a little. “I mean, just from what Tony’s told me, and the…the Battle for Earth and everything. I-I can’t imagine what that must have been like.” Silence fell between them for a moment and Peter almost choked on the crushing weight of it, his heart pounding in his chest, still bewildered by Harley’s warm hand on his shoulder that he had yet to move. “I’m not a hero like you, and Dad, and the Doc, right? So I have no idea what you’re going through, but I know I’d be scared shitless if there was some fake wizard dude trying to kill me with Dad’s tech. I…” Harley paused and met Peter’s eyes again. “You’re uh…you’re pretty brave, Parker.”

“Uh, thanks…?”, Peter choked out sincerely, severely thrown off by Harley’s genuine words while trying to ward off the anxiety attack threatening beneath the surface at the mention of Beck. What had gotten into Harley? Was he trying to fill the void that the Doc had left in his two week absence? Or were they really past the hating each other stage? Though they had technically gotten past that point when they had defended Tony from those jerks in the diner. 

“Just…what I’m tryna say is you’re not a burden for wanting help”, Harley clarified, looking uncomfortable with himself as he focused his eyes on Taj to avoid Peter’s gaze, like his own words were hitting too close to home. “Dad and Doc care about you a whole lot, and they wanna help you with all this shit. Happy too. Even when he and Dad are being idiots”, Harley chuckled as he gestured towards the dining room, though the sincerity hadn’t left his words. Peter was overwhelmed by his pseudo brother’s caring attention, nodding as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to hold back the emotional tears trying to squeeze their way out of his eyes. 

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Don’t mention it, spider baby. Like, seriously, don’t ever mention this to anyone”, Harley warned, though the quirk at the corner of his mouth told Peter that he was just ribbing him as he finally pulled his hand off Peter’s shoulder, the older kid pushing his glasses up with one finger as they watched May storm from the kitchen to the dining room. Her voice cut into Happy and Tony’s argument, quieting their retorts instantly as she herded them back to the living room, both men looking somewhat sheepish under Peter’s aunt’s disapproving frown. 

“Seriously, you two need to quit acting like a bunch of overgrown children”, May scolded as Happy averted his gaze and muttered an apology, Tony’s arms crossed as he slumped onto the sofa beside Peter and slung an arm around his shoulders, the teen automatically leaning against his side gratefully. “We’re here to help Peter deal with this issue, and you two are making that impossible with all your bickering. Now, we’re going to sit down like reasonable adults and talk this out, okay?” May’s words were framed as a question, but came off as a command as she stalked back into the kitchen.

“Oooh, y’all got told”, Harley snickered as he leaned back on the sofa, exchanging an amused smirk with Tony while Happy glowered at them both. 

“That’s enough out of you, Keener”, Tony chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s temple in between sentences that shocked the teen with how quickly it calmed him, his entire body practically melting with relief as he relaxed against his dad’s soft side, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. “You don’t have a leg to stand on, seeing as you’re the one usually getting told off.”

“Not by May, though. I’m not an idiot. She’s too scary to piss off ”, Harley shuddered jokingly as May came back into the living room, being trailed by Jarvis as she carried a tray of tea and cookies.

“Scarier than the Doc?”, Peter asked, receiving a quick wink from May as she joined Happy on the recliner he had banished himself too, imparting a quick kiss on the former bodyguard’s cheek to show that all was forgiven. 

“Nah, no one’s scarier than the Doc”, Harley assured, shaking his head even as an affectionate smile spilled over his face, leaning forward to gather a handful of cookies from the tray, scooping Jarvis up with his other hand as she tried to steal an oatmeal cookie from his hand. “I would know, first hand experience and all.”

“He wouldn’t have to reprimand you all the time if you just quit stealing the GT-R”, Tony pointed out wryly, though the devious smirk tugging at his lips showed that he approved of the car stealing more than he was letting on. He was glad to see more than a bit of himself in his son, as long as it was mostly the good parts. The room then divulged into their usual comfortable conversation and banter, letting Peter feel more at home than he had in months, wedged against his dad’s side, safe with his strong arm wrapped around him. Peter was content that his family would help him figure out how to protect his identity from further tainting, and he knew Tony would wipe an technological trail that could be manipulated to appear incriminating, but for now he was happy to relax in their presence and know that no harm could come to him while he was at the cabin. The only thing missing was the presence of their beloved wizard, a gaping hole in Peter’s chest that he knew would have to be filled before any of them could feel truly complete again. 

*****

Stephen had been gone for three weeks.

Stephen had been gone for three weeks and this information weighed heavily on Tony’s sleep-deprived mind, seated on the porch swing while nursing his now lukewarm mug of coffee. He stared out across the lake, not truly seeing the glistening water as he was lost in his own thoughts, his free hand absently rested on Jarvis’ back as she took up her usual place curled up on his chest, like a tiny, purring hot water bottle. Tony had been watching the sun rise slowly over the far horizon for the past hour, bundled up in one of Stephen’s hoodies in the dew-covered chill of dawn, consumed by his own loneliness and the overwhelming ache in his chest. 

If Tony had thought he was stressed when both Peter and Stephen were away from home, those two weeks were nothing compared to the anxiety which had rooted itself in Peter’s near identity reveal. Feeling as though he could have prevented the whole situation with Beck in the first place, Tony felt insurmountable guilt at the traumatic experience Peter had had to go through, though he was relieved beyond words that the teen possessed the good sense to have used EDITH to cut off the transmission of Beck’s incriminating message. There was still plenty to fix in terms of securing Peter’s identity, tying up any loose ends besides those which were flying around the dark web that no one would take as a credible source anyway. There would always be rumours, Tony thought bitterly, something he knew about all too well. Much more distressing than any ghost of a technology trail was the fact that he had almost lost Peter again, and all without even knowing it. The thought tore him up inside, leaving him with an aching heart and the desire to constantly hold his boy safe in his arms, a reality which was often the only way they could quell each other’s anxiety, yet another source of nightmare fuel for them both. 

Tony was pulled out of his distressing thoughts by a tiny muzzle pressing against his face, Jarvis’ purring inordinately loud for such a small cat as she rubbed her face against his goatee. It wasn’t clear whether the kitten was scratching an itch or attempting to comfort him, but Tony took the distraction gratefully either way, running his good hand down her back as he muttered to her quietly.

“Hey, JJ. You miss Doc too? Hmm?” Jarvis responded with a tiny mew garbled by her own purring. “Yeah. Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon, princess.” Tony let himself pretend his words were to comfort the kitten, not willing to admit how thoroughly wrecked he was by the sorcerer’s long, uncertain absence, though there was no one around to judge him. Six thirty a.m. meant all three kids were still in bed. It was August first, a Thursday, which meant Pepper had dropped Morgan off at the cabin last night, today was one of Harley’s days off from work, and Peter was reluctant to spend a night away from the cabin since everything that had happened in Europe. Having all the kids safely home and in his care was a soothing balm to Tony’s fractured soul, their bright energy and love a welcome distraction from the shadowy depths of his mind. 

Tony had become uncomfortably accustomed to the solid ache in his chest, his breath catching as the barren tundra of his soul was interrupted by a sudden burst of warmth, like a flint being struck in the dead of night. The engineer couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a feverish, lovesick hallucination when a sudden burst of gold sparks flickered over the front lawn, in the same spot that Stephen always opened his gateways. Tony stood and scooped Jarvis off his chest gently, setting her down on the cushioned porch swing without tearing his eyes from the spot on the lawn. 

**_It could be Wong_**, he told himself. **_Don’t get your hopes up._**

Tony’s breath caught in his throat and stayed there as the gateway opened further like a swirling wreath of gold sparks, widening to reveal the whirlpool of darkness on the other side. A familiar cloaked, armoured figure emerged from the obsidian depths of some far off, hexed dimension of galaxy-like absurdity, the silver helmet retracting with a flicker of magic and nanobots whirring as Stephen’s face was exposed, haunted and illuminated by the wavering light of the gateway. 

Tony’s chest nearly caved in on itself with relief as he stumbled down the stairs, skipping the last one entirely as he jogged towards the sorcerer, still in a state of shock and disbelief. Stephen was still all hard, battle-ready lines as he let the gateway close behind him, even Levi seemed stiffer than usual as they rippled in the slight breeze, but Tony could practically see the sorcerer’s shoulders become lax with weary relief when their eyes met. Stephen was battered and bruised from head to toe, the iridescent blue-green paint of his armour scratched all over, especially across the breast plate and arc reactor where it looked as though a massive weapon had been dragged across the mock Eye of Agamotto centred on his chest. Blood and grime was splattered over the silver and blue-green nanite metal like some sort of sick abstract art, grotesque brush strokes thrown across Stephen’s face, the deep red in stark contrast to his tired sea glass eyes, their usual clarity managing to filter through the hazy fog of pain when he saw the engineer rushing up to him.

“Tony…”, Stephen rasped in relief, everything in his body breaking a little in solace. He disengaged the armour as it flowed back up into the Eye housing unit, staggering forward as if he couldn’t handle his own body weight without the armour, leaving Levi to catch him before he crumpled to his knees. Tony reached him in the same instant, bodily holding the sorcerer up as he gathered him into his arms, cybernetic and flesh hand alike wrapped around Stephen’s back, clinging to his torn, grime-covered robes.

“Oh, babe, I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay now. You’re safe, honey”, Tony chanted softly over and over in a wavering mumble, holding Stephen as close as he could while avoiding the several large lacerations showing through his torn robes, feeling sick to his stomach to see the enormous, weeping wounds scattered all over his partner’s body. Stephen clung to him, face pressed against Tony’s neck numbly as shaking arms hooked over his shoulders, chest to chest as Tony could feel their life force reconnecting after so long apart. It felt like warm, liquid gold being poured between two jagged, broken pieces of pottery, eased back together until the edges fused seamlessly with a warmth and wholeness that brought hot, relieved tears streaming down Tony’s cheeks. 

“Am I in the right one?”, Stephen muttered weakly beside his ear, Levi wound around them so tightly that it almost hurt. Tony’s pounding heartbeat faltered as he leaned back a little to look in the sorcerer’s panicked eyes.

“What do you mean, Steph? The right what?” Stephen seemed to fumble over his words, brow furrowed a little as if his tongue weren’t accepting his control.

“The…the right reality”. Tony felt something crumble in his chest at Stephen’s clarification, forcing himself to pull back a little further, as much as the trembling cloak would allow, anyway, and held the sorcerer’s trembling wrist gently in his cybernetic hand. 

“Yeah, oh god. Yes, Stephen. You’re home, it’s okay”, he soothed as he pulled Stephen’s sleeve down carefully, exposing the sorcerer’s wrist tattoo and rubbing his good thumb over it carefully as a reminder. “We’re in the good one, remember? You’re alive, I’m alive, the kids are alive. It’s all okay. We’re in the good one.” Stephen nodded numbly at Tony’s words, looking down at where Tony’s calloused thumb was gently brushing against the pulse in his wrist, staring at the tattoo as if he’d never seen it before.

“Fourteen million six hundred and six…”, Stephen whispered in relieved awe, eyes filling with tears as reality sunk in, hitting him to his core. “It’s real.”

“Yeah, it’s real. It’s all real, and it’s not going anywhere, okay? You’re safe, Steph”, Tony smiled tearfully, cupping both of Stephen’s cheeks in his hands, tenderly brushing away the tears making their way down the grime-caked planes of the sorcerer’s face, watching as Levi helped him do so with the utmost care. Tony had to bite his lip to keep from crying openly as he looked in his boyfriend’s eyes and recognized that crumbling, glazed over look in his eyes. It was the same look he had first seen that night in the Sanctum, Stephen’s panic attack in the bathtub that he had needed Tony to pull him out of. As it had the first time, Tony’s heart caught in his throat with uncomfortable uncertainty at seeing the normally competent sorcerer so broken and lost, like he was barely holding on to his own sanity by a single thread, a possibility that terrified Tony almost as much as the thought of actually losing him.

“Are the kids…?”, Stephen started shakily, hands trembling terribly with his voice as he tried to steady them on Tony’s shoulders. “Can I see them?” Levi nudged Tony’s cheek softly, prompting his answer while trailing their fabric over the side of his face carefully, as if to make sure he was real. Abruptly reminded of how much Levi was their own person, a being whom Tony had also sorely missed, he pressed a kiss softly against the battered, embroidered fabric before answering Stephen.

“Of course you can, yeah. They’re still in bed, babe”, Tony explained, keeping his voice as soothing and steady as possible while he tried to ease the sorcerer back into their reality. “It’s only six forty five a.m. here, so they wont be up for a bit, but you can see that they’re safe if you want.” Stephen nodded as he leaned against his side gratefully, letting Tony wrap an arm around his shoulders as Levi helped guide the exhausted sorcerer up the porch steps. The trip up the stairs to the second floor was even more strenuous, Tony’s cybernetic arm whirring as he and Levi all but carried Stephen up step by unsteady step, the sorcerer too numb to even bother with maintaining his bruised pride. 

They made the rounds from one end of the hall to the other, stopping at each kid’s bedroom as Levi opened each door ever so carefully, allowing Stephen some peace of mind by seeing with his own eyes that his kids were alive and well, Taj not even stirring from his place on the foot of Morgan’s bed when they shut the door quietly. Tony couldn’t bear the overwhelming relief in his partner’s eyes, as though Stephen had truly believed that they wouldn’t be here when he got back, hugging him against his side solidly. As expected, Stephen spent the most time making sure Peter’s sleeping form was truly there as they stood in the doorway, the sorcerer’s shaking frame almost hauntingly still as he made sure the soft rise and fall of Peter’s breathing wasn’t just a trick of his mind. 

Once Stephen was satisfied that all three of their kids were safe, Tony led him down the hall again with the gentle suggestion of a bath. Levi nudging him gently into the present, Stephen made a compromise, a little bit of his usual self slipping through under the bramble barrier of trauma as he insisted that he’d be fine with a shower, leaning on Tony a little less as they stumbled slowly through their bedroom and into the ensuite bathroom together like a disconnected waltz. Taking a steadying breath, Tony closed the bathroom door while bracing his heart for the broken vulnerability of the moments to come, turning back to Stephen with a softly understanding smile. He raised his hands in question as they hovered near the front of the sorcerer’s robes, and Stephen managed a chiding look, gripping Tony’s wrists and guiding them to rest against the battered, bloody edge of his tunic. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, darlin’. I always trust you”, Stephen rasped softly with a hint of teasing, his voice barely more than an exhalation, though he relaxed visibly as Tony’s nimble fingers began to slowly rid him of his battle-worn robes. 

“Good. I’d be worried you were cursed or something if you started not trusting me”, Tony muttered in an attempt at normality, taking his time in carefully unbuckling each of Stephen’s absurd number of belts. Tony kept his eyes downcast as he worked the leather and metal through his hands deftly, noticing how his partner’s right hand was wound into Levi’s fabric tightly, his entire arm shaking as Tony reached out to take his free hand wordlessly. Stephen met his eyes gratefully, a numb haze clearing from his silvery blue irises as he attempted a smile.

“I…I’m fine. Levi just helps me. Holding them helps with grounding a bit.” 

“Just checking. Don’t want you going anywhere on me, Doc”, Tony nodded in understanding, trying to keep the terrified tension out of his voice as he gently pulled apart the ties at the neck of Stephen’s robe, letting the connected belts drop to the tile with a muted thud. Levi flinched at the sudden noise and Tony’s heart ached for them both, muttering comforting nonsense as he pulled the front of Stephen’s robe apart slowly, grimacing at the way dried blood made the thick fabric stick to the sorcerer’s skin, lifting it back over his shoulders under Levi as the relic refused to abandon their protective embrace around Stephen’s shoulders. For once, Stephen didn’t protest at being undressed like a small child, and this unnerved Tony more than anything as he stooped to removed the sorcerer’s boots and pants, watching how numb and distant he seemed while the engineer helped him step away from the blood-stained pile of indigo cloth.

“Do you want me to…?” Tony trailed off as he turned the hot water on and pulled the shower curtain across, noticing with a sinking heart that Stephen wasn’t meeting his eyes. He couldn’t take it personally, though. He knew what it was was like to be drawn into your own mind until it consumed you and nothing else existed. 

“I’ll be fine”, Stephen insisted weakly in a voice that didn’t sound like his own, stepping into the shower as Levi fiddled with the taps to adjust the temperature, gently waving off the hovering engineer. “Levi will keep an eye on me.” The relic nodded their enthusiastic assurance, even reaching out to brush one corner against Tony’s good hand reassuringly

“Okay”, Tony relented, twining his fingers into the cloak’s fabric for a moment of comfort. “But call me if you need help, and I’ll be up to check on you in ten.” Tony thought he might have heard an affectionate huff as he closed the bathroom door, doing his best not to crumble from the inside out with a mix of relief and dread, tramping down the stairs to save Jarvis from the porch where he had accidentally abandoned her. The kitten understood the concept of hooking a paw under the screen door to pull it open, but didn’t yet have the strength to fully execute her plan. Opening the door, Tony scooped up the tiny kitten in one hand as she scampered inside, holding her against his face as she purred, head-butted, and nibbled at his goatee, distracting him from the numb, tingling feeling in his limbs.

“I need a trim, hm? Yeah, Steph agrees with you, sweetheart”, Tony muttered softly as Jarvis made her own attempt at shortening the greying scruff on his chin. “Don’t worry, he’ll be glad to see you too, he’s just a little distracted right now.” Tony swallowed hard as he pressed his nose into the kitten’s soft fur, focusing on her sweet, clean baby scent instead of the haunted, empty look in Stephen’s eyes that kept running through his mind on repeat. A loud thud from upstairs pulled Tony out of his mind completely, setting Jarvis on the back of an armchair gently as he sprinted up the staircase as quickly and quietly as he could. The bathroom door protested sharply with a squeak as Tony nearly tore it off its hinges, brass nob indented from the grip of his cybernetic hand as he panted softly.

“Steph? You okay?” When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Tony pulled back the shower curtain, his heart plummeting like a rock in a well to find Stephen sitting on the floor of the shower, hugging his knees just like that night in the bathtub at the Sanctum. He was frozen, his icy, clear eyes hazed over as he stared ahead blindly, the water soaking his dark hair as water-diluted blood ran from his various wounds and down his back in rivulets. Levi hovered behind Stephen in the shower, obviously the result of trying to catch the sorcerer before his body gave up on him, collapsing into the endless blackhole of his mind.

“Why do I listen to you, you proud asshole? I should have known this would happen”, Tony muttered, thought Stephen was too lost in his own mind to respond, Tony's  fear almost covering the loving undertone to his scolding snarl. "Damn me for leaving you alone.” Levi, drenched from the spray of the shower as they tried to comfort their sorcerer, gave an offended shiver, glaring at Tony as well as they could without eyes. “You know what I mean”, Tony scoffed as he peeled his sweatshirt and pyjama pants off, softening as he noticed how still Stephen was.

“Steph? Stephen? You with me at all, babe?” There was no response from the marble, blood-stained statue that was his boyfriend in that moment. Tony sighed as he pulled his socks off and climbed into the shower carefully, nudging Levi aside gently as his t shirt and boxers were soaked through almost instantaneously, caught in the direct spray from the shower head as he kneeled behind the sorcerer slowly and carefully. “Stephen? It’s Tony. It’s just me, okay? It’s just me”, Tony soothed, just loud enough to be heard over the gentle thrumming of the water as he rested his good hand on the bloody, scar-littered expanse of Stephen’s back.

The sorcerer didn’t respond negatively to his touch, he didn’t respond at all, in fact, so Tony lowered himself to sit on the floor of the shower as well, inching forward until Stephen was braced between his legs. Tony hugged him from behind, slowly wrapping his flesh and metal arm alike around the sorcerer’ abdomen as he did his best to avoid the open, weeping wounds on his back.

“Come back to me, babe”, Tony pleaded softly, kissing one tense, bloody shoulder as he held his other half against his body carefully but solidly, the water pouring down over them like a warm summer rain. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.” Stephen shifted a little at his touch and his words, and Tony choked up knowing that he had been able to begin to pull him out of his near comatose state, continuing to mutter soothing words against the sorcerer’s skin. “I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me until you’re ready, if you’re ever ready…but I’m sorry for whatever happened. I’m sorry that your job does this to you. You don’t deserve to be torn apart like this, and…it hurts like hell to see like this. But I fix things, remember? I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try to fix this…”

“You always do”, Stephen rasped suddenly, brushing shaking fingertips against Tony’s good hand still wrapped around his waist. “We break, and then we fix each other, that’s the deal.” Tony nearly sobbed with relief as he pressed gentle kisses against every non-injured inch of skin he could reach, tightening his grip around the sorcerer’s waist.

“I won’t be able to fix you if you keep giving me heart attacks like this”, Tony scolded half-heartedly, closing his eyes against the water dripping down his forehead from his hair. He revelled at the sturdy warmth of the man in his arms, their life force ebbing like one beating heart as Stephen slid his hands up to take both of Tony’s, long, scarred fingers intertwined with his calloused and metal fingers. 

“I missed you too”, Stephen said, a tinge of amusement to the barely audible husk of his usual soothing baritone. His head was bowed forward as he held Tony’s hands tighter than he normally would, seemingly ignoring the pain in his shaking hands as Levi brushed against them carefully, their fabric a deep maroon colour drenched with water as they were.

“Go put yourself in the dryer, honey”, Tony suggested gently to the concerned relic. “You’ve done well, but I can keep an eye on him. Be ready for when he comes out, okay?” Tony’s half smile was involuntary as the cloak brushed against his cheek with their damp corner in an affectionate gesture, repeating their soft caress against Stephen’s cheek and receiving a reassuring pat in return. “Okay, good cloak. I know, you love him too.”

“I’m sorry I worry you, love”, Stephen whispered over the din of the shower after Levi had left, making Tony realize that the sorcerer had been able to hear and register everything he had said earlier. “I’m sorry you have to deal with me when I’m like this, I don’t want to be a burden. You already deal with so much-.”

“Enough”, Tony snapped decisively, squeezing his thighs around the sorcerer in a chiding manner since Stephen still had hold of his hands. “Now you’re being ridiculous. I love you and you could never be a burden to me, okay? You’ve taken care of me more times than I can count, and you know that I always want to take care of you, even though you barely ever let me.” Tony took a steadying breath, grabbing a bottle of shampoo from the shower shelf as his voice softened again. “Now lean your head back for me?”

“Alright, I’ll let you take care of me”, Stephen said under his breath as he leaned back against Tony’s front, head resting on the engineer’s cybernetic shoulder. He tilted his head to look up at Tony with eyes of emerald and silver in the low light, and Tony’s breath caught a little at the vulnerable love and trust in his eyes. 

“Good. Thank you”, Tony replied decisively, choking past the emotion clogging his throat at the deep gash on Stephen’s abdomen, now visible to him with the change in position. “Look at you, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.” Tony ran his fingers across Stephen’s muscled stomach, inches away from the seeping lips of the wound. The engineer bit his cheek and did his best to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach as he poured a dollop of shampoo in his hand, gently working his fingers through Stephen’s dark hair. 

“Hypocrite”, Stephen growled softly, though he relaxed under Tony’s gentle ministrations, his trembling fingers finding the drenched fabric of Tony’s t shirt clinging to his body. “You have your clothes on.”

“Very astute, Doc”, Tony muttered as he focused on washing the blood and dirt out of the sorcerer’s hair, though he was glad for the semblance of normality. “Got any other gems for me?”

“Douchebag”, Stephen purred lovingly. “Just wondering who you’re being modest for. Levi’s seen you naked plenty of times.” 

“I know, and I think they’ve enjoyed the view a little too much. For someone without hands, they can get pretty handsy.”

“Oh, don’t play around, we all know you like the attention. Not that I blame them”, Stephen said almost playfully, and Tony found himself soothed by the mellow tone of his voice. Though Tony couldn’t relax completely when he couldn’t be sure if Stephen was actually back to ‘normal’, telling himself it was likely the usual facade the sorcerer had to hide the crumbling pieces of himself underneath, like the broken pieces of a vase shoved under a rug.

“Well, I’ll let you know when I’m up for a polyamorous relationship with your magic flying carpet”, Tony teased to hide the worried edge to his tone, snagging the shower head down from its hook, and changing it to a more gentle setting as he rinsed the soap from Stephen’s hair. The sorcerer had no response to his comment, eyes closed as he let Tony run water and his good hand over his scalp gently, a near perfect mirror of Tony taking care of him four months ago in the Sanctum bathtub. Turning the water off and gently hauling Stephen to his feet, Tony grabbed a towel and dried the sorcerer off as best he could while avoiding the cuts all over his body that were beginning to ooze blood again. The sorcerer grimaced a little, letting Tony help him step out on the bathmat and wrap the towel around his waist.

“You’re not going anywhere before I get those cuts checked out”, Tony said, directing him to sit on the closed toilet lid as he stripped himself of his own drenched clothing. 

“Whatever you say, Doctor Stark”, Stephen huffed softly, too tired to protest as he sat on the toilet lid with a poorly suppressed groan. Pulling his abandoned pyjama pants back on, Tony rooted through the cupboard for the first aid kit just as a newly-dried Levi floated through the doorway, smacking the engineer’s rear affectionately. 

“Hey! Cut that out or I’ll leave you at the fluff and fold next time you need to be cleaned”, Tony snarled playfully, hearing a bemused chuckle from the sorcerer. “Make yourself useful, dear, and grab the chair from the bedroom and my glasses, please? Thank you.” Levi returned with the chair and glasses second later, and Tony sat beside the toilet as he got Stephen to turn in various directions, treating the deep gashes on his abdomen with the traditional hydrogen peroxide, polysporin, and band-aids that held the gashes together more than covered them. Levi hovered and fussed over Stephen the entire time, the sorcerer promising that he would heal the wounds properly once he regained some energy, imparting a tender kiss of thanks on Tony’s stubble-roughened cheek. A sudden loud thud from downstairs made all three of them jump a little, Tony’s heart pounding a little as Stephen quickly assuring him that Levi would help him get dressed, while Tony pulled on a dry t shirt and went to see what animal or child had caused the noise. 

*****

Too tired and numb to care, Stephen let Levi dress him in a pair of sweatpants and Tony’s one black MIT sweatshirt that fit him, shivering a little despite the already humid morning as his body was still adjusting to Earth’s temperature range again. The dimension he’d visited had an average temperature of 130°F, making Stephen grateful for the sweatshirt and Levi’s comforting weight around his shoulders, still warm from the dryer. Making his way down the stairs, Stephen was grateful for the relic again as his legs shook as badly as his hands usually did, nearly held up by Levi entirely as he entered the kitchen, overwhelmed by the familiar scent of pancakes on the griddle. Everything in Stephen’s tense, nerve-wracked body attempted to relax with the relief of seeing his family all together, Peter and Tony at the stove, Morgan playing on the floor with Jarvis, and Harley sitting at the kitchen table on his phone, the twenty-one-year-old lifting his eyes as he sensed the sorcerer’s presence.

“Mom?”, Harley said, eyes wide in surprised disbelief as he froze, though Morgan and Peter’s heads both whipped around as they spotted Stephen at the threshold.

“Dad!”, they greeted nearly in unison, Morgan scrambling to her feet and careening around the kitchen table while Peter did the same, earning a smack from a dishtowel as he wove around Tony. Taj, camped out in his spot under the table while hoping for Tony to drop a pancake, noticed the sorcerer a second before the kids did, his whole body and tail wagging furiously as he followed them to greet Stephen.

“Gentle with him! Dad’s had a busy few weeks”, Tony called from his spot near the stove, voice laced with concern despite the fond smile on his face at their excitement. The kids faltered only slightly, a huge grin breaking across Stephen’s face as he stooped a little (receiving several excited cheek licks from Taj), Levi helping him pick Morgan up as she practically jumped into his arms. 

“Dad, you’re home! You’re okay”, Morgan squeaked excitedly, arms wrapped around the sorcerer’s neck as she hugged him tightly, clinging to him with her legs as well like a koala. Stephen hugged her back tightly, arms shaking as he could barely believe that he was holding her again, Levi fussing over her hair and patting her cheeks lovingly with their collar. Peter was a little less exuberant in his embrace, and Stephen appreciated the gentle hug the teen gave him, pulling his kid closer with one arm around his shoulders while Levi wrapped around the three of them protectively.

“Of course I’m okay, little star”, Stephen rasped, alternating between pressing kisses against her hair and Peter’s, lost in their sweet, familiar scent as overwhelmed tears reached his eyes. “I promised you I would come back, didn’t I?” Morgan nodded as she buried her face against his neck while hugging him, and Stephen did his best to ignore the slight dampness he felt against the hood of his sweatshirt. “I missed you, spiderling”, Stephen muttered beside the teen’s ear, hugging his boy closer as he kissed his cheek softly.

“I missed you too”, Peter said, voice warbled with his face pressed against the sorcerer’s chest, and Stephen let himself relax into their embrace fully, head leaning against Morgan’s gently as he saw Tony watching them with an adoring smile. Returning the smile somewhat tiredly, Stephen caught Harley’s eye as the kid was watching their group hug with an unmistakable envious glint in his eyes. Stephen gestured with his head, an invitation for him to come over despite the sorcerer’s lack of an extra arm, but Harley immediately averted his eyes, ducking his head to look at his phone again. Sighing softly with resignation, Stephen knew better than to take it as a personal slight. He hadn’t expected an open welcome home from Harley, but maybe they would have their chance when everyone else wasn’t around. But Stephen forced himself to stay in the moment, hard as it was with his muscles aching and his head swimming, but the feeling of holding his kids safe in his arms, Levi’s warm and secure embrace, and Taj’s head pressed against his leg as the mutt’s tail wagged like a high-speed feather duster, was enough to ground him back to the correct reality for the moment. Peter was the first to pull back as he swiped at his damp cheeks quickly, and Stephen trailed him into the kitchen past the threshold, sitting in his place at the kitchen table with Morgan on his lap while she still hugged his neck. 

“What was the bang earlier, anyway?”, Stephen asked, mostly directed at Tony who was focusing on flipping pancakes. 

“Oh, Mongoose tried to get the cast iron pan out on her own”, Peter explained as he leaned against the kitchen table and ruffled Morgan’s hair affectionately. “She’s very good at helping, but she needs to work on her spider strength.”

“Butterfly strength”, Morgan corrected, barely audible with her face still smushed against her dad’s sweatshirt.

“Of course, butterfly strength. My mistake, Mo”, Peter chuckled, and Stephen could almost forget the sharp ache in every inch of his body when he saw his boy’s sweet smile. He looked across the table to see Harley pretending to scroll through social media on his phone, the sorcerer reaching under the table to gently nudge the boy’s foot with his own.

“Hey”, Stephen tried softly, brows raised empathetically as he rubbed Morgan’s back slowly. 

“Hey”, Harley responded, with less offensive guardedness than usual as a flicker of a grin made its way across his mouth.

“I see you didn’t let Tony burn the cabin down. Good job”, Stephen said, trying his best to keep a straight face, and ignoring the indignant yelp from Tony as he threatened to whip a pancake at him. 

“Well, it was exhausting, a full time job as you would know”, Harley offered slyly, layers of vulnerability just under his hard surface. “It’s a good thing you’re back.”

“It’s good to be back”, Stephen mumbled softly, resting his cheek against Morgan’s soft, dark hair, gripping his own wrist over her back as she laid on his chest in contentment. He didn’t move his socked foot from where it was resting against Harley’s, and though Harley didn’t acknowledge it, he didn’t move his foot either, a silent show of camaraderie and the first time they had touched one another voluntarily. 

Breakfast was unusually quiet as Peter sat beside Stephen and Morgan refused to leave his lap, even while they ate, forcing the sorcerer to lean around her while she balanced on his one knee, but of course he didn’t mind. His only complaint was when Tony insisted on cutting his pancakes into bite-sized pieces for him, ignoring Stephen’s proud protests completely. Stephen would never admit it, but his terribly shaking hands wouldn’t have been able to cope with cutlery use, and he certainly didn’t have the energy to conjure a spell. They were nearly finished eating when Stephen asked about how Peter’s Europe trip, and everyone suddenly became quietly still, lodging a sliver of fear in the sorcerer’s chest. Tony coughed suggestively and Harley got up to gently pry Morgan from her dad’s arms, eliciting an indignant squeak from the little girl as her tiny fists were untangled from Stephen’s sweatshirt.

Once Harley had removed Morgan from the room and to the back den, Tony turned to the sorcerer and began to haltingly recount the traumatic events of Peter’s trip, apparently to save the teen from having to do so himself again. Stephen was uncharacteristically restless as he listened to Tony’s retelling of everything that had occurred in the time since the sorcerer had been absent, fidgeting with his trembling, scarred hands in his lap as if they were aching to hold his boy. Overpowering guilt filled Stephen’s mind as he realized that the entire fiasco could have been avoided if not for his poor timing. He expressed his sorrow to Peter, apologizing profusely for not being available in their dimension when the teen needed him most, silently cursing the inability to communicate between dimensions. Tony eased the sorcerer’s distress minutely by telling him about the inter dimensional trackers he had been designing in Stephen’s absence, though they were still intended to only work for one-way communication of a sort. Acknowledging Tony’s efforts thankfully, Stephen was grateful when Peter dissolved into his arms on his own accord, hugging around the sorcerer’s middle as the teen assured him that he didn’t resent him for not being able to help defeat Beck. Quite the opposite, as Peter insisted that he was just relieved by the sorcerer’s safe return. 

Stephen’s guilt only grew when Peter admitted to not sleeping much in the past three weeks, from the anxiety of dealing with Beck, and then the resulting nightmares when the teen had gotten home a week ago. Stephen immediately offered the sleeping spell that Peter often required on the really bad nights, ignoring Tony’s gentle protests at his using magic while the sorcerer dredged up just enough energy to complete and apply the spell. After depleting his already meagre supply of magical energy, Stephen was on the verge of falling asleep on his feet when he felt Tony guiding he and Peter to the living room sofa.

“You two get some sleep, I’ll make sure the hooligan gremlins stay quiet”, the engineer said, and Stephen definitely didn’t have the energy to protest as he dropped onto the sofa lengthwise, letting Peter roll in from the edge against his chest as Levi hugged them both securely. Peter had his forehead pressed against the soft cotton of Stephen’s sweatshirt as he hugged him, Levi gently playing with the teen’s curls while the sorcerer pushed away the screaming demons in his mind. He focused on the material softness of the couch and cushions they were sinking into, Peter’s steady breathing, barely registering Tony pulling a large blanket over them both as Stephen finally let his eyes drift shut. 

*****

Stephen’s exhausted body probably could have let him sleep for an entire week straight, but he was woken by a cold, wet nose poking his cheek and Tony’s desperate, whispered attempts to pull Taj back from him. The drowsy sorcerer barely registered that Peter was still beside him until he realized his numb arm was lodged under the teen’s ribcage, an attempt even in Stephen’s sleep to hold his boy as close as possible. Stephen blinked several times before he could make out a slightly blurry Tony petting Taj, trying to convince the dog to leave the sorcerer alone.

“Don’t worry. I’m awake now”, Stephen rasped, his voice fuzzy with sleep as he laid his head back on the pillow, his head and limbs feeling as though they weighed a thousand pounds each. Levi was still draped over both he and the teen, and Stephen knew in that moment that the cloak would be extremely reluctant to leave his side for the next few weeks, especially after what had happened in the other dimension. Tony grimaced sympathetically, letting go of Taj’s collar as the mutt trotted back over to nuzzle Stephen’s cheek, sniffing all over his chest and neck as if he could sense the physical damage that the sorcerer had experienced. 

“I guess he thought it was about time you woke you up for dinner”, Tony explained in a low voice, as if he knew how much Stephen’s head was pounding, like a sledgehammer driving a stake through each temple. 

“Hm, good boy then. What time is it anyway?”, Stephen mumbled groggily, noticing how having his arm full of pins and needles drove away the pain in his left hand. He could hear the clock ticking almost ominously on the kitchen wall, fitting the melancholy yellow light provided by one of the end table lamps. Stephen would have checked the time himself but his watch arm was thoroughly wedged under a sleeping spider teen. 

“About eight p.m. The gremlins and I already ate dinner, but we have some saved for you two in the fridge. But damn you were out like a light, Doc. So was Underoos.” Tony sighed as he pulled his reading glasses off, letting them hang limply from cybernetic fingers as he scrubbed a hand down his face tiredly. “I felt so helpless not being able to help him get to sleep, but I guess he’s become kind of dependent on that spell you use for him.”

“After all he’s been through, I think it’s fair that he’d have trouble sleeping”, Stephen rumbled softly, gently squeezing his arm around the sleeping teen’s unusually lax shoulders, Levi’s collar prodding at his cheek to reminding the sorcerer to try and relax as well. “He’s allowed to be a little dependent. At least it’s better than the sleeping pills that flake at the university hospital gave him.”

Tony muttered his agreement, standing from the armchair he was seated in, explaining that they should wake Peter up before his spider DNA kicked in and drove him into hibernation mode. It took them both to get Peter somewhat conscious and in an upright position, while Tony brought them two plates of leftovers (meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas from the garden), the engineer taking up his place in his armchair as he pretended to read something on his tablet, but Stephen knew he was in fact making sure they actually ate. After nearly twelve straight hours of sleep, Peter was practically ravenous, while Stephen found it difficult to get more than a few mouthfuls down, despite Levi’s silent encouragement. He was nauseous and his stomach was still in knots, fairly convinced that any food he did get down was bound to come back up, reminding Stephen with a sick lurch in his heart of his severe separation symptoms from before he and Tony had realized how their life force bound them together. Stephen noticed the engineer giving him a suspiciously concerned look, saved by the distraction of Morgan and Harley coming from the back den, making a game of who could tip toe down the hall the fastest while still remaining silent, Jarvis trailing behind them.

Upon seeing both the sorcerer and her brother awake, Morgan squeaked her delight and ran to climb carefully into Stephen’s lap, giving him the perfect excuse to abandon his practically untouched plate of food on the coffee table, to Tony’s obvious chagrin. Morgan hugged around her dad’s neck while seated on his lap, a perfect replica of their embrace from the kitchen that morning, his arms braced behind her back as she relaxed against the comforting warmth of his chest. Her weight was a welcome one on top of the aching pressure under Stephen’s breastbone, and the sorcerer laid back against the plush couch cushions with his feet propped up on the coffee table, forcing himself to relax despite the cacophony of different bodily pains plaguing him ever since his return from the foreign dimension. Upon finishing his plate of food, Peter wasted no time in cuddling against the sorcerer’s side, cheek pressed against his shoulder as Levi wrapped around them both again. Stephen reached up to mimic the cloak’s playful ruffling of the teen’s curls, catching Harley’s eye again in the process. Indulging in an impatient inward sigh, Stephen lifted his free arm with a raised brow in a silent gesture of invitation, knowing that words would only scare the kid away with their realness and sincerity. 

Harley hovered in place for a second of suspended uncertainty, stormy blue eyes intense in their paradoxical hesitation and longing before he stumbled forward as casually as possible. Stephen felt his own heart beating in long-withheld gratification as Harley dropped onto the sofa beside him, accepting the twenty-one-year-old into a loose one-armed hug, squeezing his shoulder with one gentle, shaking hand. The sorcerer was relieved as Harley relaxed against his side, a solid warmth building in his chest from the open display of affection and Tony’s presence as the engineer came back from the kitchen, visibly softening as he saw them. 

“Alright, Underoos. Move over for your old man”, Tony sighed softly, draping a blanket over Harley and Stephen from the back of the couch, and Morgan didn’t even stir as her dad dropped a kiss on to her soft, dark chestnut hair. 

“Even if you’re used to having the couch to yourself for afternoon naps, you have plenty of room”, Peter retorted sleepily even as he gathered his legs up to vacate the last available seat, grumbling groggily as Tony settled on the cushions beside him and ruffled his curls.

“And I own the couch, so quit giving me flack about taking naps.”

“Dad, you have scheduled naps practically every day. You’re practically eighty”, Peter giggled, hiding his face against the sorcerer’s shoulder, an attempt at shielding himself from Tony’s inevitable offended rebuttal. 

“Enough bickering, you two” Stephen muttered in feigned annoyance, his eyes closed and leaning his head back against the sofa cushions as he heard a quiet snicker from Harley. Even with his eyes closed, Stephen could practically feel Tony’s tangible comeback floating in the air before he seemingly decided against it, instead reaching out to rest his hand on the sorcerer’s. Tony’s gentle, calloused fingers delicately ran up and down the sorcerer’s hand that was cupping Morgan’s back protectively, and Stephen fell asleep again to the light sensory lullaby of Tony tracing his scars as gently as if they were an injured butterfly. 

*****

Stephen’s sleep was less restful this time, fraught with the horrors he had faced in dimension 3,247, gripped in a feverish nightmare as he was stuck replaying those events over and over in his mind, like some sort of sick, gory slideshow. After Wong had given him the rundown at the Sanctum, Stephen and at least a dozen other skilled masters had opened a combined gateway into dimension 3,247, an alien reality with many worlds and planets controlled by one central leader. The leader had been corrupted by an unknown source of dark magic, yet to be found by all the masters and other entities who had tried so far, meaning that their plan was to search the entire dimension for signs of magical activity, using spells to seek out signs of dark magic, with a focus on preventing even more civilian casualties as a majority of the cities were already in ruins. The Iron Sorcerer armour had come in more than handy, as many hostile rogues inhabited this reality after the downfall of their ruler, reluctant to accept the help of the foreign masters. The armour offered another layer between Stephen and the deadly weapons and claws attacking him from all angles, the vibranium armour absorbing hits that the sorcerer couldn’t have borne unexpectedly. The arc reactor on his chest also provided a constant reminder of Tony, a comforting spark of light in all the chaos and destruction. After nearly a week of fruitless searching, Stephen had found himself stepping through a gateway to yet another planet in search of dark magic hotspots, alongside five other senior masters from Kamar Taj. Three of those masters had been killed less than twenty seconds later. 

The world they had entered was in ruins, as they had been alerted to reports of the reality’s monarch falling to unexpected mutiny, rubble and darkness overcoming what was once a glorious city in the dimension that was known to be a hotspot for mystic activity. Stephen had barely had the chance to take in the sight of the crumbling buildings and the eerily still air, heavy and sour with dark magic energy, when enormous, sharp pillars of stone surged upwards from the earth and impaled three of the other masters, killing them swiftly enough that they were denied even one last cry of pain. Gaping in mute horror, Stephen whirled back around just in time to see a building being dropped on he and the remaining two masters. Cold, unforgiving tons of concrete hurtled down towards them as Levi quickly dragged the Sorcerer Supreme to safety, an enormous, chalky cloud of dust erupting in the air as the building made contact with the ground. Panting as he ran and stumbled over the rubble of the wrecked street (he wasn’t confident enough with the Iron Sorcerer armour yet to power it up that quickly), Stephen looked over his shoulder to see that one of the masters, a younger woman by the name of Aekii, had managed to escape the path of the falling building, but the other remaining sorcerer hadn’t been so lucky. Stephen squinted against the thick dust as dread wormed its way through every inch of his body, using the Winds of Watoomb to try and clear the dust a little as he turned to consult his only remaining colleague.

“Are you alright? What was-?”

Stephen was cut off as Aekii was suddenly drawn up into the air by glowing icy blue tendrils, before being sucked down into the ground by a burial spell faster than Stephen had ever seen used before. Horror gripped the sorcerer’s chest as he whirled around and slammed his helmet shut again, peering through the dust and rubble to try and locate the source of the formidably deadly magic. The atmosphere of this planet was making Stephen nauseous, the very dimension itself rejecting his body as a foreign entity, and the only time he had felt more alone was while facing Dormammu, no one but his newly bonded relic by his side. He could feel Levi stiff with readiness, trembling around his shoulders, and Stephen reached one shaking hand to grip the cloak’s edge tightly in his armoured fist, a futile attempt at comforting them both. A searching spell produced no results as to who was behind the deaths of the masters, responsible for the stark, grey destruction surrounding Stephen like overbearing ash trying to suck the life out of a single drop of blood. 

“Who’s there?!”, Stephen shouted suddenly, erupting as frustration for his colleagues' sudden deaths and his own feeble defencelessness becoming insurmountable. “Show yourself!” Stephen was appalled by the heavy crack in his voice, the way it trembled before he pushed through with a baritone growl he managed to dredge up from the depths of his chest. 

“Hello, Stephen”, came a voice like honey-rolled gravel, lost in the surrounding fog of dust, but far too close for comfort. Stephen hadn’t actually been expecting a response, whirling around again with Levi billowing around his shoulders, just in time to hear the long forgotten but familiar sparking sound of relic vaulting boots, landing and pushing off from Rings of Raggador. Stephen turned quickly to see the auburn glow through the grey dust, the rings looming closer with each resounding step until Mordo landed on a jutting piece of broken concrete looming above the Sorcerer Supreme’s head. 

“Karl?”, Stephen asked incredulously with a quirked brow, letting his helmet retract cautiously, though the figure before him was clearly his former colleague and training partner. There was that same long, tendril-like scar drawn across the baron’s left brow, the same deep jade robes now offset by a mantle of ebony cloth hung off his left shoulder. Dark, testing eyes met Stephen’s, trailing up and down his armoured body, and the sorcerer felt the need to cover his heart with one hand, trembling fingers resting over the arc reactor on his chestplate. There was a deep, dark energy in those eyes that seemed to search into Stephen’s very soul, saw him for who he was, and detected the weaknesses and flaws there with a single passing glance. 

“It’s certainly been a while, _Sorcerer Supreme_”, Mordo practically hissed, and Stephen quickly realized that the man before him was not the same man who had abandoned he and Wong in Hong Kong, shortly after Dormammu’s defeat. “And look at you crashing into my dimension without any reinforcements. That wasn’t very wise of you”, the baron chided him easily, a certain heft and power to his stance as he shifted his weight, still baring down on Stephen with sharp eyes from his concrete perch. It wasn’t difficult for Stephen to connect the dots. Mordo had plans for who the Sorcerer Supreme should be, and it certainly wasn’t Stephen. 

“I had plenty of reinforcements until you killed them”, Stephen stated coldly, his own words chilling him to the bone until even Levi was shivering around his shoulders. His mind and body were rebuking the very thought that one of his closest former friends had just killed five other Masters of the mystic arts, an act almost akin to cannibalism when it came to the familial bonds forged between the residents of Kamar Taj. 

“I would have killed you too if you had been just a littler slower. And thanks to that cloak of yours”, Mordo added with disdain, lip lifted in a snarl as he eyed Levi critically, the relic stiffening protectively in direct response. Stephen didn’t even need to hear the baron’s words to understand the jealous light in his eyes, to feel the resentment rolling off those cape-clad shoulders. All those details from years ago came rolling back and clicked together like the pieces of an almost obvious puzzle now that they were all laid out in front him like this: The way Mordo had enviously expressed how critical Levi was about choosing a master when they first claimed Stephen as their’s, those subtle, spite-laiden glances Stephen had often received from the baron when training one-on-one with the Ancient One, the unbearable tension held between them whenever they were alone, though Stephen had almost written that off as misplaced attraction, or maybe even sexual frustration. It made something sour clench in the pit of Stephen’s stomach, not wanting to believe the assumptions his mind was bringing forth, not wanting to ask the now necessary question which he replaced with another. 

“And what do you mean _‘your’ _dimension?” No sooner had the words left Stephen’s mouth did he realize what Mordo had been entailing. All of the disruptions of dark magic in this dimension, corrupting the planet’s leaders, had been the former master’s doing, a plan of his own devising to bait and ambush the Sorcerer Supreme. Mordo would have known that Stephen would be forced to address an intradimensional threat on such a grand scale, clearly confident in his own abilities to swiftly wipe out any of the other masters which had been brought along on the mission. This information clicked in Stephen’s mind like an unpleasant ticking of a large clock, and Mordo must have seen understanding flicker through the sorcerer’s eyes as he smirked darkly, practically gloating with the way he looked down at the Sorcerer Supreme like he were little more than an insignificant speck. 

“You’ve been running amok for long enough, Stephen”, Mordo drawled, once again making Stephen feel like a small boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I would have taken you out years ago if you’d had the decency to be alive.”

“Well, you certainly took your time with it. I’ve been alive again for over a year now”, Stephen pointed out snidely, attempting to not swallow his own tongue in his mounting panic.

“I had to prepare something special for you. We both know I wouldn’t have been able to get you out here on your own unless it was something…” Mordo paused, like he was relishing the moment of finding the perfect word to slide of his tongue. “Incredibly destructive. And what better way to attract the attention of the Sorcerer Supreme than to tear an entire dimension apart with dark magic?” Now the bitter, hard truth was out in the open and Stephen was nearly quaking with the revelation, betrayal souring his blood and chilling him to the bone. This wasn’t the Mordo he knew, and it was breaking his heart. Stephen could handle all sorts of emotional turmoil in battle when it came to inter dimensional beings and aliens, but when it was the man he had spent every day with for nearly a year, the man who had been there for him during the lowest point of his life, he couldn’t help but dwell a little on the painful fissure making its way through the centre of his chest. Memories came flooding back, and what came to mind most quickly was Mordo’s sudden disappearance after Stephen revealed his use of time-manipulating magic, a breaking of the natural law, the baron’s past anger and disgust now seemed like a bitter memory turned into ironic prophecy as Stephen could practically feel the air around them humming with dark magic.

“Hypocrite”, Stephen growled harshly, brushing past his sentimental heartbreak and brushing Levi back over one shoulder as he readied himself in a defensive stance. “You ostracized the Ancient One for her use of dark magic, even after following her loyally for years. Now you turn to it yourself?” Stephen shook his head with a knowing frown, eyes narrowing in that familiar way they used to have, a last ditch attempt at appealing to Mordo’s humanity.

“You haven’t left me with much choice, now have you, Stephen? You used dark magic and the time warping powers of an infinity stone for your own purposes, a foolish act, and you expect to be allowed to uphold your position as protector of these worlds?”, Mordo asked in an accusatory tone, shaking his head in bitter disappointment, staring into Stephen’s soul like he had been all along. 

“If you’re talking about my using the time stone to predict the realities of the Titan battle, then I assure you that was not for my own purposes, but to protect the fate of the universe”, Stephen snapped, immediately defensive, though he knew bartering with Mordo at this point was useless. The dark baron had already made up his mind. “I didn’t have any other choice.”

“Oh, you’re sure it wasn't even a little self-serving?”, Mordo wheedled, tilting his head a little as if pleading with Stephen to think a bit harder about what he was claiming. “Your choice to use the time stone didn’t have anything to do with the fact that picking this reality ensured the survival of Tony Stark?”

“How did you know about that?”, Stephen ask hollowly, voice croaking a little as dread consumed him, eating him whole like a snake would a small, unsuspecting rodent

“I’ve been in your head for years, Stephen. This isn’t even the half of what I know about you.” Mordo’s words seemed to trigger something deep in Stephen’s memory, dredging up long-forgotten scenes of a frightened eight-year-old boy in a cold Nebraskan farmhouse, woken up screaming in the middle of the night by things in his mind that he couldn't explain. His father had shut him up with a tumbler of brandy, just enough to warm and lull him to a feverish sleep that wouldn’t keep the rest of the house up all night with his yells of terror. After his father’s initial solution to the issue of his horrific nightmares, Stephen had spent the rest of his childhood and even into his teenage years sneaking booze into his room, drinking just enough to quiet the voices in his head enough so that could finally pass out. Stephen had only recently been able to put a name to the horrors that had lived in his mind since age eight, able to control the dark spirits and voices of ancient entities tormenting him whenever he tried to sleep.

“The nightmares? The demons that wouldn’t leave me alone? That was all you?” Stephen was swimming in shock, drowning too quickly to even be heartbroken by this new realization as Levi tightened around his shoulders in an attempt at comforting the sorcerer. 

“I knew what you were destined to become. I’ve been trying to prevent your success for years, but then I became the Ancient One’s apprentice, that put a bit of a damper on my plans. Things have been on hold since your…unfortunate demise on the planet Titan.”

“Then why did you help train me?”, Stephen demanded incredulously, betrayal flowing freely though his bloodstream much as it had on the night in Hong Kong. “You spent weeks, months even, helping me grow and perfect my abilities, just so you could one day attempt to destroy me? That seems a little counterintuitive.”

“I couldn’t seem suspicious, now could I?”, Mood chided with a raised finger, shaking it at Stephen in a simple, insulting gesture. “I had to uphold my role as the Ancient One’s apprentice. And at that point, when we first met, I knew I could take you on even if you progressed much further in your training and studies, but not the Ancient One. I knew I couldn’t enact my plan, not while she was still alive. But you were naive and predictable. I expected you to bring us into the mirror dimension and you delivered.”

“You planned that?!”, Stephen asked, heart breaking all over again for his lost master, the person who had been more of a mother to him than his own flesh and blood, his chest now a tremulous thunderstorm of all the nights he had lost drowning in guilt and grief. “I have blamed myself for her death for years now, and you let my live with that guilt!”

“A small price to pay on my part, don’t you think, Stephen? Nothing like the sacrifice you made for Stark”, Mordo reminded him easily, almost bored by his now apparent stalling as he let Stephen work through about a thousand different emotions at once.

“Leave him out of this!”, Stephen snapped, fear making him grit his teeth, a protective fire lit in his eyes.

“Oh, but he’s the proof I need isn’t he? The final straw on the camel’s back.”

“Proof? Proof of what?”, Stephen demanded, mind reeling with possibilities, hating his own ignorance. Maybe he had been letting things slide a little. 

“Proof that you’re not fit to be Sorcerer Supreme”, Mordo growled demeaningly, a dark disgust filling his eyes, clearing seeing Stephen as a disgrace to his own prestigious title. “You gave up your life and left the multiverse unprotected all because of one tiny human life?” Horror filled the Sorcerer Supreme’s chest as he realized what Mordo was implying, realizing the danger he had put Tony in by mere association, the engineer now a target of weakness in Mordo’s eyes. 

“He saved the universe. He didn’t deserve to die”, Stephen insisted as he forced his voice not to crack, heart shuddering with fear as he shook his head. “Not after everything that’s happened. He was willing to give up everyth-.”

“Right”, Mordo interjected savagely, clearly having no patience for Stephen’s desperate explanation. “It was your job to save the universe, but where were you? Oh, yes. Dead because you couldn’t even protect the time stone, and even worse, you chose his life over the stone.” The irony of it all stung like lemon juice in a fresh wound, reminding Stephen of his words to Tony on the alien spaceship, his premature threat of being willing to let Tony and Peter die before he ever let anything happen to the stone. Clearly things had changed. “You’re weak, Stephen. He’s weakened you”, the baron continued, shifting his weight as one hand twitched with the telltale readying of a spell. Stephen knew better than to barter with a madman, he knew better than to put Tony in danger by entertaining the idea of keeping him as a part of this conversation. Still, he looked at the destruction all around them, destruction Mordo had created specifically to bring them to this moment, and it made him sick to his stomach with protective dread and worry.

“I don’t want to kill you, Karl”, Stephen croaked out, and he hated the almost pleading quality to his voice. They had been close friends, almost more, and Stephen was reluctant to begin something that would only end in one of their deaths. He knew he was letting his sentimentality get the better of him, like exposing a chink in his armour, but his empathetic doctor side was screaming to find another solution.

“Oh, my dying will be the least of your worries, Sorcerer Supreme.”

Stephen was ready for the attack when it came, but he wasn’t prepared in the least for its intensity. Mordo had clearly been strengthening his power in the past seven years, while Stephen had only had the past year to heal from tearing himself in two, now struggling to keep himself in one piece while the baron laid into him with a series of attacks the sorcerer had only ever read about in old, dusty tomes. Wong had been relentless in reminding him lately just how weakened his magic was since the life force split, but it wasn’t until that moment that Stephen truly realized how severely his power had been divided in two. With only half a life force, his body simply didn’t have the capacity to orchestrate more complex spells at their full intensity, leaving Stephen to resort to short bursts of magic when he intended to inflict serious damage. On a good day, the Sorcerer Supreme was still one of the most skilled magical beings in this or any other universe, specifically when it came to the mystic arts, but he was nowhere near his full power as he had been during the Battle for Earth. To make matters worse, Mordo was attacking him with dark magic, something Stephen hadn’t practiced in since before his death on Titan, something he knew his body wouldn’t be able to withstand. Mordo seemed to know this too. 

While he worked to deflect Mordo’s strong flurry of attacks, aided by Levi as the sorcerer felt his energy waining, Stephen could also feel a dark force whispering at the edges of his consciousness, evil, all-consuming tendrils working their way into his mind. They reminded him of the demons which had haunted his sleep ever since he was a young boy, the demons he had drowned out with alcohol and then worked hard to bury deep in the back of his mind. But these evil spirits were multitudes stronger, pushing past the thorny barriers constantly held up around his mind, winding and working into his innermost personal thoughts. The panic must have been clear in his eyes, gasping with exertion and fear while Levi did their best to parry the multitude of deadly attacks, Mordo looming over him like a cat watching its prey squirm in agony. Stephen could feel his body seizing with the curse Mordo was successfully laying over him, and the sorcerer worked from the inside out to try and rid his body of the penetrative dark energy, but his efforts were futile against the overbearing blackness seeping into his soul like a poison, as futile as trying to mop up the ocean with a sponge. The protective armour around Stephen’s body, nor the helmet on his head, did nothing to ward off the curse crashing into his mind, his heart silently crying out for Tony’s in a pointless plea for help. 

Stephen yelled out with anger more than pain as he felt the oozing, thick blackness seeping into his mind, infiltrating the most tender parts of his consciousness, and feeding off all the knowledge and power held there from years of studying and practice. Mordo’s intent was to become Sorcerer Supreme by making Stephen’s assets his own, feeding off his thoughts like a blood-sucking leech until there was nothing left of the sorcerer but a weakened, dry husk. Once the draining curse had its claws in him, Stephen found it impossible to pry himself from its hold, body convulsing painfully as he dropped to his knees, a searing pounding in his temples forcing his eyes shut, groaning gutturally like a dying animal while Levi tried their best to heave him to his feet and away from Mordo, who was now calmly applying the curse to completion. 

Stephen’s only thought as he shakily struggled to open a gateway, a last ditch attempt to get away from the baron, was to protect his half of the life force for Tony’s sake, using his last ounce of energy to put a protective guarding spell around his half of their soul as he clambered through the crackling ring of energy he barely managed to get open. He’d opened the gateway to another nearby dimension, certainly not his own as he couldn’t have Mordo following him directly home, barely summoning the strength to pull himself through the gateway before allowing it to snap shut. 

Stephen lay panting in the dirt of a foreign city and gathered strength to open another gateway home, hidden from view in a back alley as he tried to regain his breath past the insistent pounding in his head. His mind swirled around the consuming darkness in snippets of himself, tossed about like pieces of scattered paper in a storm, terrifyingly out of reach from his desperate grasp to gather his own thoughts back together. Stephen could feel the curse settling in his body and mind, destined to feed off the meagre remains of his magical energy until he had been sucked dry of all his prowess in the mystic arts. Besides the growing self pity for his own demise, Stephen couldn’t help the crushing weight of the guilt he felt for letting down the entire multiverse, for disgracing the prestigious title he had upheld for just under three years, and for putting Tony and the rest of his family in such acute danger. If Mordo succeeded in becoming Sorcerer Supreme, there was no telling what would become of Earth and all the other worlds that had been under Stephen’s protection ever since the Ancient One’s death. 

*****

Stephen woke up again in the middle of the night feeling like he’d swallowed the Gobi desert, swimming in disorientation as he found himself alone in his and Tony’s bed instead of on the living room sofa surrounded by his family. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table told him it was just past two o’cock in the morning, Tony’s side of the bed worryingly cold and empty. Stephen groaned softly as he sat up slowly in bed, pressing one hand to his pounding temple, while the culprit of his location change made themselves evident as Levi immediately swaddled him in loving concern once they realized the sorcerer was awake.

“What did you do, smack my head against the bannister on the way up here?”, Stephen asked the cloak groggily, one hand clutching at Levi’s thick fabric, remembering too late that his pounding headache was from the curse implanted in his brain like a virus. The sorcerer’s heart sank as reality came flooding back, trying to clear his head as he conjured a cool glass of water, the liquid burning on its way down his sandpaper throat, though the extreme temperature change seemed to soothe the pounding in his temples a little. Levi, wound around his body indiscernibly as they were like a spiderweb entrapping its prey, noticed his discomfort immediately and offered an Advil bottle from the nightstand drawer. Stephen knew human medicine would do nothing against the spell, but he took two of the pills and popped them into his mouth with a swig of water, if only to quell the relic’s constant quivering worry. 

“I’m okay”, he lied with a soft rasp, tracing his shaking fingers over the familiar pattern of Levi’s embroidered edge in the dark. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Despite his best attempts at sounding convincing, the relic had known him and spent every second with him for nearly four years, and Stephen felt a gentle smack on his cheek in the dark as Levi rejected his lie outright. 

“Okay, you win. I’m not okay. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now, Levi”, Stephen muttered under his breath to the unimpressed silhouette of the cloak in the deep, middle-of-the-night darkness of the bedroom. Levi seemed to disagree as they grabbed one of Tony’s t shirts from the foot of the bed and tossed it at Stephen’s face. 

“No. And Tony can’t do anything about it either, you know that”, Stephen retorted as he caught the t shirt, bunching it against his chest in a comforting gesture, even as he felt his patience quickly waning with the waves of pain washing over him like a tide. Levi’s only response was to wrap one of their corners around Tony’s pillow and shove it against the sorcerer’s chest as well, looking at him as expectantly as a being without eyes or a face could look. Stephen glowered at the relic in the dark, knowing they could sense his irritation as well as if it were their own, shoving the pillow back towards them roughly.

“No, Levi. I am not telling him. That can’t happen, okay? That would put him at risk to know anything more than he does right now. Tony’s already in danger just from what Mordo knows about him, I can’t be responsible for putting him in even more danger”, Stephen said sternly, earning a quick slap to the face as the cloak shivered with frustrated anger. “Slap me again and see what happens, you little shit”, the sorcerer hissed, cupping his stinging cheek with one hand, hurt lodging itself in his chest while his full body pain and delirium wore his usually patient nature thin within a matter of seconds. Regret quickly drowned out every other emotion he was feeling, disgusted by his temper rearing its ugly head as his chest boiled with nothing more than annoyance at the cloak’s desire for honesty. 

Stephen was risking drowning in guilt by keeping this from Tony, especially after promising the engineer that he would never hide anything big from him again, a direct result of Stephen’s necessary confidentiality concerning the fourteen million alternate realities. But as he had tried calmly explaining to the cloak, making Tony privy to this sort of information would be akin to putting a target on his back. When it came to Mordo’s goal to become Sorcerer Supreme, knowledge was everything, whether as an asset for the baron’s plan, or a weak spot to eliminate. Mordo would see a knowledgeable Tony Stark as nothing more than a threat to his own success, and find a way to eliminate him as quickly as possible. In all honesty, Stephen was itching to confide in his boyfriend, to seek comfort and affirmation that he wasn’t losing his mind just yet, but the thought of anything happening to Tony because of his own selfishness kept the sorcerer indefinitely tight-lipped. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart”, Stephen whispered as the cloak stroked his cheek apologetically, gathering the relic into his arms as he felt them cowering fearfully, a new cloud of self-resentment swarming his soul. “I know you’re worried, but I can’t risk losing Tony like that. You understand? We can’t let him know.” Levi nodded as they seemed to finally resign to their shared fate, sealed and signed by the mad baron determined to tear the relic’s master from the surface of existence. Always quick to forgive, Levi wrapped themselves around Stephen’s shoulders, thick fabric hugging him tightly as the sorcerer bunched the familiar crimson softness in his damaged hands and buried his face against it, letting his emotions dissipate until all that was left was the full body pain. 

Heaviness settled in Stephen’s chest again as the weight of his reality made itself known again by the tremulous ache worming its way through every muscle in his body, groaning softly as even breathing hurt a little. Back in the day, when he had the full capacity of his life force to control spells at their greatest strength, he would have been able to rid his body of the curse fairly easily, as long as he was able to find the incantation to reverse it. Dark magic was much less by the book than the natural mystic arts he was more accustomed to, often much stronger, savage, and unpredictable than the spells the masters of Kamar Taj tended to use. Either way, he knew he would need help to research a possible remedy, that was if Mordo hadn’t created a curse of his very own, something that was extremely likely and also nearly impossible to break. Stephen was running out of time, he knew, worry and dread for his family usurping his concern for himself. He needed to see Wong as soon as possible. 

But right now, in the dead of night, his only concern was seeing where Tony was. Getting out of bed hurt - everything hurt, really - swinging his legs slowly over the side of the mattress while Levi hugged around his shoulders and helped the sorcerer up into a standing position. Stephen didn’t bother with his housecoat to avoid Levi likely getting offended, shivering violently despite the relic’s heavy fabric wrapped around his shoulders. The curse had started off by initiating physical symptoms meant to weaken the sorcerer, beginning with flu-like symptoms as Stephen felt himself burning up with a fever from the inside out, hot one minute and frigidly cold the next. His head was pounding with the beginning effects of the curse on his mind, muscles aching severely like with any cold, and nausea tugging at the edges of his consciousness just enough that teetering his way down the stairs made his stomach flip dangerously. 

Quiet clinking and shuffling noises from the kitchen drew Stephen out of his own painful misery, as he noticed that the curse had increased his light sensitivity, squinting in the dim light from above the counter where Tony had created somewhat of disaster. Bowls and various ingredients were strewn about the marble workspace haphazardly, but Stephen was more concerned about the engineer hovering beside the oven. Tony looked overtly small wearing Stephen’s missing housecoat, lonely and desolate in the half light of the kitchen and the sorcerer suddenly felt a wave of nostalgic guilt at leaving his partner alone for so long, watching how the restless tension in Tony’s shoulders seemed to harden his entire frame. 

“Anthony?”, Stephen asked as gently as possible, though the engineer still jumped slightly as he whirled around to face the cloaked figure who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. 

“Jesus christ, Steph”, Tony gasped, eyes wide with one hand clutching his chest, though he immediately relaxed the second after he realized it was just his boyfriend padding about silently as usual. “You scared the shit out of me. I still haven’t gotten you that bell yet, have I?”

“M’ sorry, darlin’”, Stephen muttered, long-forgotten dredges of his Nebraskan roots slipping through in his groggy, sentimental state. “What are you doing down here?”

“I couldn’t sleep”, Tony told him almost guiltily, having come leaps and bounds from when he used to try and cover up the fact that he hadn’t slept in days. Stephen’s concern was lessened by his honesty, though he could see the edges of fear still lingering in Tony’s good eye, and certainly not from the sorcerer accidentally sneaking up on him. 

“So…baking?”, Stephen asked, gesturing loosely to the floury disaster that had been made of the counter. He sidled up beside the engineer, which admittedly didn’t help make him seem any less small and lonely, standing at his side in their apparent sentry-like vigil waiting for whatever Tony had put in the oven to bake. 

“I would have worked on Iron Sorcerer - you banged her up pretty bad, by the way”, Tony added wryly, glancing up at the taller sorcerer from the corner of his eye, but remained facing the oven. “But I knew you or the kids would probably hear me in the garage, and I didn’t want to wake you up, so I’m making cookies instead.”

“Cookies?”, Stephen asked curiously with a raised brow, bemused more than anything by Tony’s newfound hobby, amusement intermixing with the innate pride he felt at the engineer’s successful attempt at combating his anxiety. 

“Yeah…”, Tony said, an unreadable expression crossing over his face before he shoved whatever disturbing thought he had had back into the depths of his mind. “I’ve been baking a lot while you’ve been gone”, he explained with an attempt at wry humour, patting his own belly with his cybernetic hand in an almost demeaning way. “Can’t you tell?” Tony’s self confidence and body image issues had both improved substantially (especially after all the attention he got at the New York Pride parade), but of course he had bad days, though Stephen suspected he was using his weight as a cover up to distract the sorcerer from why he was actually up so late at night. 

“Oh, Tony”, Stephen scolded softly, giving the engineer a pleading look to be more kind to himself. Tony’s only response was a stubborn pout, so the sorcerer knew he wasn’t going to win a verbal argument with Tony about his weight, especially not with his head spinning in nausea as it was. Stephen improvised by stepping forward to hug the shorter man from behind, hands resting on Tony’s soft stomach with loving reassurance as he pressed a gentle kiss to his hair. Of course he had noticed the extra five or so pounds Tony had packed on in the past three weeks, not that he would ever mind or mention Tony’s weight gain, instead Stephen found himself drowning in guilt at being the cause of Tony’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. “Can I help with the cookies?”

“Of course you can, babe”, Tony smiled softly as he leaned back into his boyfriend’s sturdy embrace, looking relieved to have the sorcerer’s company more than anything, an apparent improvement on lonely nights spent in the kitchen alone. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to make these coconut cookies stick together properly without drying them out. Morgan and I almost had a batch down yesterday, but then we burnt them”, he grinned almost sheepishly.

“So that’s how you’ve been keeping busy, hmm? Though it seems all that practice hasn’t made you any neater at it”, Stephen teased, swiping his finger through a trail of flour and dabbing it on Tony’s nose lightly. The affronted pout he got in response was more than worth it, though a painful silence followed soon after, filled only with the ticking of the clock on the wall, a stark reminder of all the hours Stephen had spent away from their home, their family, away from each other. The thick silence was uncomfortable until Tony couldn’t seem to bear its weight anymore, turning around in Stephen’s arms to bury his face against the sorcerer’s chest, gripping around his ribcage almost desperately. Levi swathed the engineer in their thick, red fabric automatically, drawing him in tighter to a loving, warm embrace that was so desperately needed. 

“Fuck, Stephen, I missed you”, Tony sobbed wetly against the sorcerer’s chest, and it was only then that Stephen realized that the engineer had started crying, shoulders shaking silently as he clung to Stephen like he was afraid he might disintegrate into dust again. “I missed you s-so much, and I di-didn’t even know if you were gonna come back. And th-then everything that happened with Peter. I-I didn’t even know what to do”, Tony whimpered helplessly, self-loathing seeping into his tone as he looked up to meet the sorcerer’s eyes with a heartbreaking expression, his big, hazel and blind eyes tear-filled as his cheeks shone with dampness. “I was completely out of it, because I couldn’t stop thinking about whether you were alive or not, and Happy had to deal with it, for fuck sakes. Our son almost got framed for murder, and I-I’ve never felt so fucking useless in my life!” Tony cut himself off with another choked sob, melting in the sorcerer’s arms as Stephen pulled him back against his chest.

“Ssh ssh, baby, no. It’s okay, you’re not useless. You're incredible, and you do so much for all of us”, Stephen muttered soothingly against Tony’s hair as he held him, drowning in the stabbing ache of guilt in his own chest as he shared in his partner’s feelings of helplessness. Realistically, he knew there had been no way for Peter or anyone else to communicate with him while in another dimension, but that didn’t stop him from resenting himself for being gone in the first place. His chronic fear of failure was eating him up from the inside alongside the curse, as he considered his not being here for Peter as a deathly serious failure. His son, his little boy, had needed him more than ever and he had failed to be here, but not just for Peter. 

Stephen and Harley had been in the middle of a life-altering heart-to-heart that could change the kid’s entire perception of himself when Wong had called the sorcerer away, their sexuality-based conversation put on pause for the past three weeks in what must have felt like a tense eternity to the lonely twenty-one-year-old. And nothing had torn the sorcerer’s heart in two more than having to reject giving Morgan her usual bedtime story, a nightly ritual between the two of them since his and Tony’s first kiss. It was a small downfall in the grand scheme of things, but Stephen knew from experience that it was the little things, the little letdowns, that tended to stick with little kids. They remembered who was there for them and who wasn’t, and Stephen feared nothing more than for Morgan to lose faith in him. 

“I’m losing my touch, Doc”, Tony chuckled bitterly against the wet spot he had created on the sorcerer’s t shirt, good hand wound tightly and bunched into Levi’s fabric as he kept his forehead pressed against Stephen’s chest. “I used to run around and do the Iron Man thing, save millions, now I can’t even keep my baby safe. I have one job now, Stephen. My job is to keep you and our kids safe, and I can’t even do that.”

“You always try your best, but you don’t need to be entirely responsible for everything all the time. You’re allowed to have help, and I should have been here to help you, darlin'. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t”, Stephen rasped through his own attempt at holding back dry, acidic tears, biting back a pained gasp as the curse sent a sharp shard of pain through both temples, holding onto Tony just a little tighter to remind himself who he had to stay strong for. “But I’m here now, and I’ll help you fix this as best we can, okay?”

“I’m such a failure as a parent. I'm worse than my dad”, Tony sobbed sourly, shaking his head in rejection of Stephen’s words. It wasn’t okay, and they both knew that. It could have been so much worse, but the three of them had already faced so much of the worst, some tiny, selfish part of Stephen had sincerely hoped that Peter at least would be able to catch a break from the universe. The teen was so young, but had already seen far too much, and Stephen’s heart ached for the maturity Peter had been forced to acquire through his years of hardships and traumatic events. 

“Hey, hey, you’re not a failure, Tony. And you're nothing like him. You're the best dad these kids could ever ask for”, Stephen said assuredly, one large, scarred hand cupping the back of the engineer’s head softly as Levi rubbed his back slowly in soothing circles. “You’re everything to that kid, and he doesn’t blame you for what happened. He made the decision that he did because he just wants you safe, because he loves you so much.”

“I still feel shitty about it”, came the grumbled reply from against Stephen’s chest, Tony’s arms strong and solid around his middle like they were holding each other together. And, in a way, they were as Stephen could feel the cold tendrils of the curse working its way through his body far too clearly, shivering slightly despite the inane amounts of body heat Tony always gave off. Tony didn’t seem to notice the muscle tremors that were wracking the sorcerer’s frame, but Stephen didn’t blame him in the least after the emotional distress he’d been experiencing for the past three weeks, though he was grateful for Levi bodily holding him up as his leg muscles seized painfully. Even if he had been able to confide in Tony about the curse without concern for his safety, Stephen wouldn’t want to add to his mounting emotional toil, the amount of stress and pressure the engineer was already under being enough to make Stephen worry for his heart. But deep in the irrational, selfish parts of his own mind, Stephen wanted so desperately to be able to express his inner turmoil to his partner, overwhelmed by pain and frustration, choking back a quiet sob and pressing a kiss to the top of Tony’s head instead, a silent thank you to the universe for allowing him the time he’d had with this incredible man. 

“That’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you, darlin’, until you feel better”, Stephen promised as he gathered Tony back together in his arms, melding his crumbling pieces back together, even as the sorcerer broke and slowly fell apart himself. 

*****

For the first time in three weeks, Tony woke up the next morning without a cavernous ache in his chest that threatened to swallow him whole. He found himself cocooned in warmth and comfort, inside and out, despite the thunderstorm that had raged last night, recognizing the muted patter of rain on the windows before he even opened his eyes. Tony allowed himself a moment to bask in the safety of Stephen’s half of the life force beside him for the first time in nearly a month, a grateful warmth blossoming in his chest just for the simple fact that his husband was alive and-. Tony opened his eyes suddenly with the realization of what he had just thought. 

Husband. He had thought of Stephen as his husband. 

In a moment of pure bliss, Tony felt himself elated from head to toe at the very thought before the familiar anxiety set in, though only with a flicker of doubt, before he turned his head to meet the peacefully sleeping face of the man beside him. Rolling over on his side, Tony used his own arm as a pillow while he studied the sorcerer’s ethereal beauty which he had the privilege of waking up beside, smiling softly to himself again as he rolled the word ‘husband’ around in his mind, and thought about what it would feel like to say that word in reference to Stephen. It felt good, it felt right, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be spending the rest of his life with anyone else, regardless of their shared life force. He had mulled over the thought of marrying the sorcerer ever since Stephen had mentioned the countless realities where they had done just that, when he had told Tony how they had always ended up together in over 8 million realities. The past five months of being officially together had done nothing but cement Tony's love and trust for the sorcerer, further helped by how good Stephen was with the kids. Stephen had welcomed all three of Tony's children as his own (because they were his kids in this and so many other realities), giving them all of himself, always gentle and patient despite the toils and stress of his job that so often tore him away from them. But Stephen was home now and contentment settled in every nook and cranny of Tony’s body, easily able to imagine himself waking up beside the sorcerer for the rest of his days, feelings of safety and love overwhelming him at the very thought. Who would propose? Would they keep their separate names or hyphenate? Strange-Stark? Or Stark-Strange? Whose name came first would likely be something they’d argue about when the subject came up, but with all of their usual playful banter. Tony’s daydreaming was a welcome distraction from the reality of all the issues currently occupying his mind, the stressors that had driven him to do some late night-baking until said sorcerer had found him in the middle of baking cookies, offering his usual solid comfort and piecing Tony back together like he always did, before finally convincing the engineer back up to their bedroom sometime around three a.m. 

Tony was grateful that he had given into the good doctor’s insistent demands to get some actual sleep, instead of pulling an all nighter as he had been prone to in the past few weeks. He was feeling well-rested for once, huddled under the comforter as the grey morning offered a drear drizzle that was cool for August, remembering that Morgan had snuck in last night as he felt a tiny presence stir under the blankets. A dishevelled, groggy-eyed five-year-old appeared from under the dark blue comforter with a sleepy squeak as Morgan noticed that her daddy was awake, dragging her Spider-Man plush up with her as she huddled against hist chest and fell back asleep almost instantaneously. Tony smiled softly to himself as he encircled his cybernetic arm around her back gently in a protective loop, making sure that the cool metal didn’t come in contact with her bare skin. 

He hadn’t been remotely surprised when Morgan had climbed into their bed a little after three a.m., mostly due to her fear of thunderstorms, but it had also become a habit for the little girl in the past three weeks. Ever since Stephen had been called away, Morgan had refused to spend the entire night in her own bed, and some nights Tony wouldn’t even bother to put her to sleep in her room, not when she would end up sleepily tugging on his sleeve only a few hours later. He supposed it was good for both of them as Morgan got the comfort she needed, and her unrest forced Tony to go to bed at a reasonable hour instead of staying up all hours of the night to tinker and bake his anxiety away. Tony felt almost guilty that his daughter had caught his anxious streak, her almost constant worrying for Stephen on his otherworldly trip rivalled only by Tony’s. Her worry made it hard for her to sleep, and gave her nightmares bad enough that she would wake up crying in the middle of the night, one of the rare instances that Tony sorely wished that she wasn’t such a perfect mini replica of himself. He knew letting her sleep in their bed was a dangerous habit to get into especially when Morgan was usually so good with sleeping through the night, but Tony didn’t see any harm in relaxing the rules a little for the past three weeks at least, where they could comfort each other in their sorcerer-caused misery, reading stories huddled under the covers before they both fell asleep, though Morgan was usually the first to drift off half draped over Tony’s chest.

Tony relaxed in a state of half-wakefulness, drifting in and out of sleep as the overcast morning offered no bright sunlight forcing him to pry his eyes open. The distance-muffled sound of an alarm indicated that Harley would be dragging himself out of bed to go to work, and Tony could hear the twenty-one-year-old’s door creak open from the old guest bedroom, followed by the clicking of Taj’s claws on the hardwood floor as the mutt trailed Harley down the hall to the boys’ shared bathroom. Knowing that Peter was still sleeping in and would be spending the day at the cabin with them, Tony had to fight the urge to text Harley and convince him to call in sick to work today. Now that the engineer had his entire family in one place where he could keep them all safe, he was tempted to be selfish and keep them within his sight, maybe for a relaxing family day that all five of them were sorely in need of. But Tony was proud of his son for sticking to a consistent work schedule (as prone to unpredictable chaos as Harley was), so instead he stared at the doorknob of their closed bedroom door in the grey light of the morning, listening to the sound of water running from the bathroom, Harley’s careful thudding footsteps down the stairs (once again followed by the click of Taj’s claws), and the quiet clattering noises of the kid preparing himself breakfast in the kitchen.

**_Probably pop tarts_**, Tony thought with affectionate exasperation to himself, though he was certainly no role model for healthy eating, especially in the past three weeks. The thought reminded him of his slight weight gain, especially in his stomach which Morgan was currently shoved up against, little arm clinging around his belly like it was the best pillow she had ever experienced, and her tiny, positive warmth made Tony smile, gently carding the fingers of his good hand through her dark hair. The many afternoon naps they had taken together over the years had proven that Morgan’s favourite napping spot was on top of her dad, and if she liked his soft stomach, then maybe Tony could convince himself not to see it as such a bad thing in his own eyes. 

A quiet bang from downstairs - probably Harley tripping his way over the front door threshold like he did most mornings - jolted Tony out of his thoughts, and Morgan squirmed awake with bleary eyes as she tried to decide what had interrupted her peaceful sleep, her gaze finally settling on Tony’s face as she pouted in disgruntlement. 

“Daddy? What was that?”, she grumbled sleepily against his chest as Tony brushed her hair back from her face softly. 

“It’s just Har bear being loud as usual”, he soothed with a chuckle, noticing that Stephen, who was usually an incredible light sleeper, hadn’t stirred from his slumber at the crashing sounds from downstairs. “You can have a little sleep-in if you want, baby girl. It’s still early”, Tony muttered, rubbing Morgan’s back soothingly as she nodded her head tiredly and laid it back down on the pillow, but not before checking for the umpteenth time that the sorcerer was still on her other side, sleeping soundly.

“Dad still sleep?”, she asked in all seriousness, concern creasing her tiny brow. Her question seemed to stoke one of Tony’s own unspoken worries that he hadn’t even realized existed until that moment. Stephen was a still sleeper to begin with, but now he seemed unusually still in a way that made Tony’s heart clench in his chest, though he made an effort to swallow down any irrational panic. He focused on the sorcerer’s side for a moment and was able to detect the faint rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathed evenly, able to breathe his own silent sigh of relief in turn. Tony silently berated himself for being so paranoid, but there was something distinctly off about his partner ever since he had come home, something deep and uncertain that Tony was sure he wouldn’t understand, though the engineer convinced himself that he might have been imagining the whole thing. 

“Yeah, Dad’s really tired after working for so long, right? He needs lots of rest now”, Tony explained gently for Morgan’s sake, tucking a stray strand of her unruly hair behind one ear. Morgan nodded in quiet understanding, rolling over so her back was pressed against Tony’s chest, joining her daddy in watching the tense, tired face of the sleeping sorcerer. Stephen usually looked so much younger while he was asleep, restfulness subtracting years and lines from his face, but now the sorcerer’s face seemed almost hauntingly gaunt and old, for once showing the responsibility of the millions of worlds and galaxies that rested on his shoulders. Tony studied the planes of his partner’s face, noticing how Stephen’s cheeks were slightly flushed from the warmth of their thick comforter, his dark hair in rakish disarray across his forehead, and Tony had never been so achingly in love with him as he was in that moment.

“Have good sleep, Dad”, Morgan whispered to Stephen softly, reaching out to brush her tiny fingertips over the tattoo on the sorcerer’s wrist, and Tony’s heart practically melted at her tender gesture. He watched as she traced each number of the 14,000,606 with the utmost care, her touch as light as a butterfly so as not to wake the sorcerer.

“I love you tons, my sweet girl”, Tony muttered against her hair quietly, overwhelmed at seeing the amount of love and affection his daughter had for the love of his life. Stephen and Morgan had gotten incredibly close in the past three months especially, but there was something about the moment, warm and still in the safety of the quiet, grey morning that pulled at Tony’s heart strings, and he found himself getting misty eyed without being too ashamed of the mess of emotions that had been consuming him lately. 

“I love you three thousand, Daddy”, Morgan whispered back, and he could hear the smile in her voice, hugging his arm around her a little more securely. 

“Wow, that’s a lot”, Tony said, voice muffled as he pressed kisses to the top of her head, nose buried in her soft, sweet-smelling hair. He noticed that Stephen had started snoring quietly, mouth hanging open endearingly, and Tony smiled to himself as he had a thought. “How much do you think Dad loves us?” Morgan’s brow drew together for a moment of concentration before she came to her decision.

“That much”, she said, pointing to the tattoo on Stephen’s wrist, trailing her tiny fingers over the black ink embedded in the sorcerer’s skin, and melting Tony’s heart further in the process. He smiled softly as the weight of that particular number was lost on Morgan, but it hit him straight in the chest like a lead weight and settled in the centre of his life force like a source of physical reassurance. 

"Yeah, I think you’re right, ‘Guna”, Tony whispered as he smiled widely, kissing her cheek repeatedly while she giggled from his goatee tickling her. “And we love him that much too.”

“Do you, now?”, Stephen asked in a raspy rumble without opening his eyes, making Morgan squeak in surprise, and Tony started a little as his head whipped up to look at the sorcerer accusingly.

“Dad! You’re awake!”, Morgan greeted in her excitement, one tiny hand attempting to grip around Stephen’s wrist as if she were afraid he might leave again. 

“You have got to stop doing the whole third eye thing, Stephanie! It’s creepy when you pretend to be asleep like that”, Tony accused in a tone that the sorcerer knew to take as joking, Stephen’s smirk growing as he squinted at Tony sleepily, aquamarine eyes twinkling with an almost boyish mirth in contrast to how ancient he had seemed minutes ago. “Get him, Morgan! He needs kisses as his punishment”, Tony told her and Morgan immediately clambered onto the sorcerer’s chest, covering his face with tiny kisses as Stephen chuckled and wrapped her up in his arms. 

“Hmm, I missed you, you little monkey”, Stephen growled softly as he tickled her neck with prickly kisses, and Morgan erupted into giggles as the sorcerer rolled over, the little girl squirming on the mess of blankets as he tickled her sides as well with big, gentle hands. Tony’s heart melted all over again to hear Morgan’s laugh, and to see Stephen in all his playful gentleness, the epitome of the most amazing person he could ever ask for as a co-father to his daughter.

“Dad! Dad, please stop!”, Morgan giggled breathlessly, little legs kicking as she tried to pry Stephen’s hands away from her sides.

“What’s the magic word?”, Stephen prompted, giving her a knowing eyebrow raise, sparing a playful, loving glance Tony’s way that warmed the engineer from head to toe.

“Butterflies!”, Morgan squeaked, exhaling a giggly sigh of relief as her dad stopped and began to pepper her face with tender, loving kisses.

“Hmm, I love you, I love you, I love you”, Stephen muttered, pressing a kiss to her cheek, her nose, and then her forehead in between each utterance of the phrase. “In fact, I love you this much”, he said, holding his left wrist up to show his tattoo, and Morgan latched onto his arm again like she knew it was one of the few concrete reminders the sorcerer had of everything that was important to him in times when his own mind wasn’t trustworthy. “I love you 14,000,606”, he whispered against her cheek, kissing her neck again and making her giggle.

“What about me? Doesn’t your man get any love? I’m practically starved for attention over here, Doc. I’m withering away”, Tony pouted teasingly as he gave Stephen his best puppy dog eyes, though there was a small ache in his chest for the sorcerer’s attention after not seeing him for so long, grateful when Stephen leaned over their giggling daughter to cup Tony’s scarred cheek in his big, scarred hand. Stephen held him like he was a treasure, like he was made of gold and jewels instead of scars and vibranium, with tender reverence as those cerulean eyes as deep as the sea drew Tony in like the sweetest dream he had ever had. But it wasn’t a dream. It was their sweet, solid reality and Tony found himself absolutely drowning in those ocean eyes, blissfully at peace with his life for the moment.

“I love you 14,000,606 too”, Stephen told him in a gentle rasp, sea glass eyes far too adoring for Tony to stay in a completely solid human shape, melting a little as he met the sorcerer in the softest of kisses, broken and put back together a million times in his partner’s touch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mixing MCU and comic Mordo (and Stephen) because that’s fun in a painful way lmao


	27. It's Better To Feel Pain Than Nothing At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people who really matter are the ones who stick with you through the shit that no one else will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: HEAVY DRINKING (also mention of top surgery scars. It’s a positive, proud scene, but I certainly wouldn’t want to trigger anyone’s dysphoria idk)
> 
> TODAY (September 21st) IS THE ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF “I KNEW YOU FOR A DAY” AND I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR EVERYONE WHO HAS COME ALONG FOR THE RIDE. This fic started as a three chapter plan to help heal my heart after Endgame, and it’s become a whole lot more because of everyone who has read, left kudos, and motivated me with comments. Thanks so much, guys! Love you all 14,000,606! <3<3<3
> 
> I sacrificed an arm and a leg to several demons in order to finish this chapter, please validate my blood, sweat, and tears with cOmMeNtÉ
> 
> I just wanna say that, yes, I do love these boys more than anything, okay? But storytelling needs conflict, and this conflict just so happens to be super angsty, okay? Bear with me. They’re gonna be happy soon, I promise.
> 
> Fair warning, this chapter is equal parts angst and fluff, so…prepare yeselves.
> 
> “It's better to feel pain, than nothing at all. The opposite of love's indifference.” ~ ‘Stubborn Love’ - The Lumineers
> 
> I am,,,soft for simple birthdays at home hanging around with your family and friends, with good food and no real agenda. I’ve never had anything else, and I imagine the boys would love it considering shit has been stressful lately

Stephen had never been so tired in his life. 

The first three days after coming home from the foreign dimension, he spent sleeping in his and Tony’s bed, save for when he woke to use the restroom or choke down what little food he could. It was pure exhaustion from a stressful week in another dimension and extensive magic use that left him physically and mentally drained, as he knew it was still too early for the curse to be sapping his energy so severely. Regardless, sleep was his only relief from the constant buzzing darkness in the back of his mind, and from the full body aches and pains which he began to be able to differentiate between those caused by the fight against Mordo and the curse itself. For the few hours that he was awake each day, Stephen’s mind was numbed to the constant nagging aches his body was fighting, still too exhausted from battle to spare the energy required to even heal the various lacerations pockmarking his skin like browning crimson paint spattered across a marble statue. His bandages needed frequent changing to prevent infection, especially since there was no knowing what kind of pathogens existed in that other dimension, but Tony was incredibly good with keeping the dressings fresh, as the sorcerer would wake up sometimes to find that his soiled bandages had been miraculously renewed. 

Those first three days back at home passed in a feverish haze of slipping in and out of conscious, marked in juxtaposition by periods of deep sleep, and waking to Tony’s insistence that he try to eat something solid. The engineer had been relentlessly proffering his trademarked green smoothies (which tasted much better than they looked), but they had remained majorly untouched on the bedside table, despite Stephen’s best efforts to choke them down for Tony’s sake at the least. The nausea-caused aversion to food left a dense pit in his stomach that was almost rivalled by the guilt he felt at the disappointed, concerned look on his boyfriend’s face every time Tony carried away the untouched glassful of smoothie. During the brief window of time each day that Stephen’s body allowed him coherent thought, he did his best to try and soothe the pinched worry lines on Tony’s face with assurances that he was just tired, though the engineer scoffed at the idea that he needed consolation when Stephen was the one recovering, spending a great deal of time throughout the day in their bedroom. Tony refused to leave his side during the short periods of time that the sorcerer was awake, and Stephen knew that his sometimes overly protective partner was also spending countless daylight hours huddled next to him in their bed. Despite Tony’s borderline clingy behaviour, Stephen couldn’t much blame him after what had been three weeks of separation in their own dimension, the sorcerer’s only regret being that he couldn’t reciprocate the same amount of affection as his own body betrayed him. 

The only being who had been more attentive than Tony was Levi, as the cloak remained wrapped around their master 24/7, covering his sometimes shivering frame as the sorcerer only felt safe to succumb to sleep under their vigilant watch. Taj came a close third in increased protectiveness around the unsaid second head of the household, and his near constant comforting weight near the end of the bed, often nestled against the sorcerer’s legs or even his chest, was another reassurance to Stephen that it was safe for him to sleep. Luckily, Stephen’s sleep had been suspiciously devoid of nightmares since he returned from the foreign dimension, especially concerning everything that had happened, but that changed on his third night home. 

**_Oh. There it is_**, Stephen thought bitterly as the dark, peaceful void of deep sleep turned into fitful REM sleep fraught with images that only could be produced from the horrors that inhabited his mind. 

The nightmare was surprisingly unoriginal but no less terrifying: Mordo grew impatient waiting for the curse to do its work, and had come into their dimension to slaughter Stephen’s family one by one, leaving the Sorcerer Supreme as a broken, mourning husk of himself, his grief incomparable to the effects of even the strongest curse. The sorcerer woke up gasping sometime around four a.m., drenched in a cold sweat as he floundered his way into a sitting position, pushing blindly in the dark at the force pinning his arms to his sides. He realized in the next second that the constraining entity wasn’t Mordo’s bands of Cyttorak, instead it was Levi’s gentle yet strong fabric holding him to prevent any accidental defensive spells conjured in his frenzy. Spells that could hurt Tony. 

Turning to face the concerned face of the engineer in the cold moonlight, all the panic left Stephen’s body in an instant, replaced with a deep, mortal ache and overwhelming helplessness, falling into his partner’s sturdy arms and against his warm chest. He sobbed hard against Tony’s chest, cradled in his reassuringly crushing grip around the sorcerer’s shoulders until he had depleted all the energy he didn’t even have, shivering as he did his best to focus on the feeling of Tony’s fingers combing through his hair methodically instead of the gruesome images his mind was providing. He clung to Tony until his hands hurt, only loosening his grip a little when he heard a soft gasp from the engineer, warbling out an apology while Tony shushed him and continued his gentle ministrations on the sorcerer’s scalp. They spent the next two hours like that, until Stephen had calmed down enough to drift off to sleep, though he managed one clear, conscious thought before exhaustion dragged him under again.

** _I need to see Wong tomorrow. _ ** ****

** _*****_ **

Stephen realized with great dismay that cutting his own limb off probably would have been easier than lying to Tony. 

The trust in the engineer’s good eye, dark and warm with caring concern, especially after their small setback in trust-building since the whole incident with the fourteen million, was enough to gut Stephen mercilessly in one fell swoop. It wasn’t a complete lie when Stephen mentioned that he was heading to the Sanctum the next morning to get the worst of his cuts healed by Wong, but he certainly left out the part where he was also going to recruit the librarian’s help in searching through their extensive book collection for a counter spell to remove the curse. Tony met his announcement to leave for the Sanctum after breakfast with nothing more than acceptance and support, because he shouldn’t have any reason to think that Stephen would be lying to him, would he? So Stephen sat through breakfast with shame eating away at his innards, another contributing factor to his inability to get any food down, sipping at a ginger tea numbly while Tony and the kids ate their waffles and kept conversation relatively hushed for the sake of the sorcerer’s pounding headache. He noticed the uneasy, worried glances Tony would send him every so often, which encouraged Stephen to work even harder at keeping together a facade that entailed anything other than how quickly he was falling apart at the seams. 

Plates were cleared after everyone had finished eating, while Stephen struggled to stand from his chair with a muttered curse to himself. Tony noticed immediately and held out an arm to help him, but not before Levi swooped over to swaddle the sorcerer's shoulders and help him to his feet. Stephen managed to minimize his stumbling as he pressed a reassuring kiss to Tony’s cheek. 

“You’ll be back for dinner?”, Tony asked suddenly as the sorcerer pulled away, looking up at him with those big, Bambi eyes of his. Stephen’s heart already couldn’t take much more of this, but he strengthened his resolve with gritted teeth as he reminded himself that his lying was for nothing less important than Tony and the kids’ safety. 

“Of course I will be. Wong and I just need a few days in the library to sort something out”, Stephen soothed, cupping Tony’s cheek quickly with scarred fingers that were trembling even more than usual. “You boys make sure you help with dinner. Don’t let your dad do everything on his own”, the sorcerer reminded with a pointedly raised eyebrow mostly in Harley’s direction. Both boys nodded in quick compliance as the sorcerer rounded the table to drop a kiss onto each of the kid’s heads, even Harley bowing his head in acceptance instead of his usual grumblings at any display of affection. 

One more order of business needed to be taken care of before Stephen left the cabin, convincing Levi to release their protective hold on his shoulders so he could speak to them properly, asking them to stay behind while he left for the Sanctum. Under normal circumstances, Stephen would have never even considered separating himself from the cloak, as the old relic was his most trusted friend and companion of nearly four years, but these weren’t normal circumstances. Trembling with worry, Levi’s desperately reaching corners insisted that their greatest concern was for their master’s safety, fracturing the sorcerer’s heart in the process. Taking their embroidered edges in shaking hands, Stephen explained in a long dead language that Mordo had already done the required damage to the Sorcerer Supreme’s body, making his family the next most likely target. Levi nodded their collar in understanding, though they refused to unwrap their corner from around Stephen’s wrist until the sorcerer gave them a reassuring kiss of thanks on their collar. Glancing over the crimson fabric, Stephen caught Tony’s concerned gaze at his rather suspicious behaviour of leaving the cloak behind for the first time since they had known each other, never mind the use of the ancient mystical language that only Levi could understand. Stephen didn’t have the energy or the guts to do anything more than give his partner a reassuring smile, promising once more that he would be back in time for dinner before heading out the front door. 

*****

Arriving at the Sanctum through the gateway Wong had opened for him, Stephen hadn’t quite prepared himself for scolding that was coming to him when he walked through those ornately carved front doors. Wong thoroughly berated the sorcerer for prolonging his impending visit until three days after he had returned from the alien dimension, pointing out that the Sorcerer Supreme was putting himself and the multiverse at greater risk by exposing himself to the curse for longer than necessary. Stephen was too tired to argue with that logic. He was able to brush past the librarian’s reprimanding comments, instead focusing on the piles of books Wong had pulled from the shelves, beginning to accumulate research since Stephen had texted the senior sorcerer on his first night home, both to let him know that he was alive, but also to allow him a chance to dig through his organized disaster of dusty old tomes. 

“Have you found anything promising so far?”, Stephen asked, feeling more energized than he had in days as he pushed up the sleeves of his black long sleeved shirt, only to have the dog-eared volume he had picked up snatched out of his hands. 

“No”, Wong responded decisively, obviously put off by Stephen’s incompetence to take care of himself as he deftly dropped the book back onto its pile with a copper glimmer of a spell. “How am I supposed to know what we’re looking for if you haven’t let me check you out yet? I just gathered some books on general knowledge about lifting different curses, just in case we need them.” Stephen begrudgingly found himself being nudged towards an old chair near the main entrance of the library, too weak to resist as he dropped into the rickety, uncomfortable chair and Wong sat across from him, wordlessly pulling the sorcerer’s sleeves up further to heal the deep cuts which had caused the white bandages to be blood-soaked within a mere hour. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before you bleed all over my books, hmm?” Stephen nodded numbly, noticing that Wong’s tone was gruff, but his hands and intentions were caring as the librarian pulled back the bandages to reveal the worst of the sorcerer’s cuts. He watched as those deft fingers passed a healing wave of magic over each of the deep gashes on his arms, bronze, rippling energy fusing his skin back together seamlessly. 

“Did you tell Stark?”, Wong asked bluntly, just as Stephen had been considering breaking the suffocating silence that always fell over the library. 

“Of course I didn’t fucking tell him”, Stephen snapped back, hissing as Wong pulled his sleeve back down roughly once the cuts there had been fully healed. “Do you have any idea what Mordo would do to him if he knew that Tony knew?”

“What he might still do”, Wong corrected warily, gesturing for Stephen to pull his shirt off. The sorcerer huffed and rolled his eyes, but complied anyway, keeping his shirt bunched over his forearms resting in his lap as he let Wong heal the worst of the wounds on his torso. “Stark could be completely oblivious and Mordo might still see him as a threat."

“Can you call him Tony?”, Stephen grumbled tiredly, knowing that he was focusing on the wrong thing as his mind convinced him to think of anything but the uncomfortable topic at hand, a defence mechanism he’d been resorting to more than he would like lately. “Calling him ‘Stark’ all the time makes it sound like you hate his guts.”

“Tony will find out sooner than later”, was Wong’s simple reply, and Stephen’s stomach turned at the pity in the librarian’s dark eyes. 

“I’m quite aware”, Stephen growled, feeling his unfortunate temper boil even though he wanted nothing more than to find solace and comfort in his friend’s presence. _Stop trying to drive him away, you idiot._ “But like you just said, that won’t make much of a difference if Mordo decides that he’s a threat before then. The only way to fix this is to break the curse and destroy Mordo.” Stephen’s own words left a sour taste on his tongue, trying to avoid the memories of all the good times he had spent with Karl at Kamar Taj that were suddenly welling up in his mind. Wong didn’t seem to notice the way the taller sorcerer had tensed up as he guided him to turn around with a gentle hand on his elbow, tending to the enormous gash on his back, the healing magic eliciting an unpleasant tingling feeling that made Stephen’s skin crawl. His sleep-weary mind drifted in a whirlwind that settled on the possibility of Mordo going after Tony or the kids, horror spawning in his chest as he recognized the dark energy pulling at the edge of his thoughts, making an effort to focus on the dark, dusty ceiling of the library as tears weighed heavily at the backs of his eyes. 

“I can’t lose them, Wong”, Stephen choked out roughly in a single breath, and he felt the warm magic pulling his skin back together wane and flicker out completely.

“You won’t”, the librarian replied easily, as casually as if making the assurance that the grocery store wouldn't run out of bread. 

“You can’t say that. Not for certain. God, I’ve made such a mess of this, how do I even-?” Stephen cut himself off at the feeling of hot tears trickling down his cheeks, his voice thick and rough like molten boiling gravel, on the verge of a full meltdown when he felt a rough hand grip his elbow to turn him back around again. He was numbly taken aback when Wong rested both hands on the taller sorcerer’s shoulders, looking in his eyes with immovable resolve. 

“You’re going to fix this, because I’m going to be here to help you.” Wong spoke calmly and solidly like he was reassuring a small child, but his simple words managed to hook a lifeline on to Stephen’s downward spiral. “I am not going to let anything happen to you, or your family, because I am your friend and protector. Right?” Stephen nodded tearfully, grounded by the warm weight of Wong’s hands on his shoulders. The gruff librarian nodded dutifully in response, seemingly satisfied by Stephen’s attitude and that his optimistic words would come to fruition. Stephen wasn’t sure how much the librarian believed in his own affirmations, but if they gave him a thread of hope to hang on to, then he would cling with both hands. “Good. Now put your shirt back on”, Wong told him brusquely. Stephen did as he was told, his hands quivering and twitching like leaves in the wind of an oncoming storm, shoving them beneath his under arms in a vain attempt to make their shaking less noticeable. 

“I can’t do this on my own”, Stephen whispered brokenly, feeling the weight of an entire mountain on his shoulders as the responsibility of keeping, not only his family, but the multiverse safe. He would have thanked his friend for his offer of support, but neither of them were very good with that sort of thing in the first place. Real, genuine words were better than empty, repetitive thanks anyway, as Stephen admitted that this wasn't a one man job, and he knew that Wong was the only one to help him. 

“I know”, Wong agreed quietly in solidarity, his steady hands resuming their former position on the taller sorcerer’s broad shoulders. “Now I’m going to see what kind of curse he put on you, so we can get this sorted out, okay?” Stephen nodded in agreement, eyes almost welling with tears again at his friend’s unusually gentle words. Warm energy flowed from Wong’s palms, seeping through the Sorcerer Supreme from head to toe, and Stephen watched in muted horror as a frown camped itself on Wong’s face and deepened with every passing second. 

“That bad, eh?”, Stephen croaked out bitterly, though hope still clung to his voice like morning dew on a spider’s web, evaporating with the rising sun of probability. 

“Dark magic. As you feared.” Wong’s voice was clipped and monosyllabic, almost completely devoid of emotion. It was only once Stephen glanced up from staring at his own feet that he immediately wished he hadn’t, spotting the heartbroken look on Wong’s face, and nearly crumpling to the ground with the realization. Luckily, Wong’s hands were somehow still holding him in a standing position, keeping him grounded to this plane of reality at the very least as he reached for his friend’s forearms with his own shaking hands. 

All of the horrific possibilities ran through Stephen’s mind as his overactive imagination supplied the most gruesome scenarios fathomable. Stephen imagined the curse having its way with him, transferring all of his knowledge and mystic abilities over to the dark baron, practically a key to the multiverse in Mordo’s attempts to become Sorcerer Supreme as he so rightfully believed he should be. Stephen imagined his body and mind deteriorating, a slow, painful death until there was nothing left but a dry husk of his former gloriously powerful self. He imagined Tony having to watch him waste away to nothing, Tony having to survive once he was gone, and the thought of Tony living out the rest of his days in crippling pain without the relief of their shared life force almost sent the sorcerer into a fit of sobs, that thought alone so much more terrifying than his own impending demise. Worse still was the thought that Mordo may not stop even once Stephen had perished. Stephen wouldn’t put it past the baron to keep him alive just long enough to watch his family get tortured and killed right in front of him, weak and restrained with nothing Stephen could possibly do to stop him. Slightly less gruesome was the thought that Mordo would let Stephen fade out, but still pick his family off one by one, hunting them as a fox would with its quarry. These new revelations mixed in with all of the times Stephen had seen Tony and Peter killed in the Titan battle while viewing the fourteen million possibilities, decapitations, impalement, and gruesome dismemberment flashing through his mind until his empty stomach threatened to upset what he hadn’t even eaten. 

“Stephen”, Wong soothed rather brusquely, nearly bodily holding the sorcerer up at this point as he drew him out of his fear-driven daze. Stephen managed to meet his friend’s dark, expectant eyes, and the look held within them told Stephen that he was wasting time thinking about the future, dwelling on hypotheticals that could be prevented if they got to work instead of standing there uselessly hyperventilating. The sorcerer nodded in reluctant understanding, letting Wong wrap an arm around his shoulders, and lead him to the shelves where they kept the old tomes on dark magic. 

*****

Stephen managed to slip into a bit of a routine during his first week back at home.

He would spend the majority of the day at the Sanctum, pouring over old scripts and tomes with Wong as they searched desperately for a counter spell to the curse that was slowly eating away at his mind and body. He always managed to evade the obligation of breakfast at home as he convinced Tony that he had already eaten, sometimes slipping out even before the engineer woke up. It wasn’t that Stephen wasn’t craving a good meal, but his body simply refused to keep anything solid down for longer than ten minutes, resorting to the calorie-enriched alien food he usually ate after strenuous battles or spell use in order to restore his energy, but his weakening body rejected that as well. His condition was painfully similar to the life force separation symptoms he'd experienced after leaving the Wakandan hospital, and this alone was enough to make Stephen ill with dread. The constant pit in his stomach, coupled with a pounding headache, and muscle spasms made it difficult to concentrate on much, but Stephen found it a relief to divert his mind away from his physical symptoms and instead focus on finding the remedy to them. 

After they had eliminated the possibility of more common dark magic curses, Wong had been able to apply a diagnosis spell which broke apart the separate components of Mordo’s curse, identifying the mixture of different less harmful curses which had been combined together. Stephen had realized with haunting dread that this meant that the curse was in fact one of the dark baron’s own making. This, combined with the fact that the curse was of dark magic, meant that it would be nearly impossible to manifest an incantation that would be able to break the curse completely. Even if they had been able to piece together the specific counter curses for each portion of the curse, dark magic was of a savage and unpredictable nature, especially that which had been willed through inter dimensional energy by an individual’s life force. This sort of custom magic, specifically when created with evil intent, was immovable and nearly indestructible in its strength, expect by a very powerful force. Stephen knew that, back in the day before he’d given up half his life force, he would have been capable of easily breaking the curse, a thought which didn’t do well to dwell on as it did nothing but draw the taste of sour bile up from the pit in his stomach. 

Despite this, Wong hadn’t lost his determined resolve to find a solution, consulting other trusted senior masters in Kamar Taj and acquiring their opinions and knowledge on curses of dark magic. The more research they did, the closer they got to the inevitable conclusion that the only way to break the specialized curse was to also destroy the creator of the curse. Considering how difficult it would be to track down and kill Mordo, the baron thriving in his magical prime, formidable even when he wasn’t drawing on energy from the dark dimension, Wong was thorough in ensuring they had explored all other possibilities before moving forward in their plans to rid Stephen’s mind and body of the curse. 

While other masters of Kamar Taj did their best to track Mordo down, the Sorcerer Supreme and librarian tried every applicable counter spell in a vain attempt to at least dislodge a portion of the curse, making their way down the dwindling list of possible cures each day until Wong was drained of magical energy. They spent countless hours in that old, dusty library, the oily light flickering in the lamp sconces as they shared the dark, dutiful misery of analyzing passages of script in books that were thicker than the length of Stephen’s hand. The sorcerer’s eidetic memory and years of practice reading such tombs allowed him to skim the inky letters on faded pages, chapter by chapter, only pausing when the pounding in his head was too much to bear. 

The curse had been worsening in the past week, his feverish symptoms wreaking havoc on his body while dark forces pried at his mind relentlessly, floating at the edge of his peripheral consciousness like a relentless evil smoke. And he could feel the smoke beginning to seep past his defensive mental barriers, tainting his mind with toxic darkness that not even the strongest will could withstand. It was a helpless, panicked feeling to know that it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the full effects of the curse and, still too weak from three weeks of battling galactic beings to conduct any mental blocking spells, Stephen turned to alcohol to numb the all consuming dread. The warm, fuzziness in his head was highly preferable to the spine-chilling whispers he was beginning to hear, the tumbler of whiskey he kept beside his current tomb also a way to ease the muscle aches that were worsening with each passing day. He of course accepted Wong’s offers of pain-killing spells, but the librarian must have also seen the way the drink offered Stephen some peace of mind, an old, familiar comfort that magic wasn’t going to provide, and Wong didn’t say anything as he watched the sorcerer slowly work his way through several bottles of whiskey. 

In the darker hours, usually when Stephen could feel the effects of the alcohol beginning to wear off, only to be replaced with ghostly chants pressing at the back of his skull, his mind would turn to the Ancient One. Memories of her death were dredged up from his encounter with Mordo, and the realization that he hadn’t been responsible for her death as he had thought came bittersweetly, peace of mind still evading him as he mourned for his lost master all over again. She would have been able to fix this all so easily, rid him of this curse, and destroy Mordo once and for all. He missed her steady guidance and no-nonsense attitude, her easy, graceful power that came from centuries of perfecting her art, but most of all he missed the way she combined discipline and maternal love into every interaction she had ever had with him. Stephen’s heart cried out for the mother he wished he could have had for just a little longer, silent tears trickling down his cheeks to splash into the whiskey glass he was nursing, making sure to keep his tears from spilling onto the ancient tome he was searching through.

Stephen didn’t have much time to spare for grieving, though, as he could feel the curse waning on him with greater strength each day, eating away at his mind and his very soul. 

Stephen had realized early on that Mordo had created this spell specifically for him, to feed into his weakness and destroy him from the inside out, only possible because of Mordo’s innate knowledge of the sorcerer, a result of their close friendship during that year at Kamar Taj. It was a betrayal of the most bitter nature, a kind of back-stabbing that hit Stephen right in the centre of his chest. But the sorcerer was forced to push his emotions aside as they were still presented with the issue of finding Mordo, never mind killing him. Stephen couldn’t afford to still think of Mordo as his former friend; the dark baron had cursed him and threatened to kill his family. The only emotion he had left for Mordo was pure, unbridled loathing. 

But the sorcerer had even less time to spare on rage, the Ancient One’s chiding voice intermixing with the ghostly whispers that had taken up residence at the edges of his mind. It was all a race against the clock as Stephen knew it was only a matter of time before Tony found out that something was seriously wrong. He had fed the engineer an air-tight lie about what had happened while he was away in that alien dimension, though Tony hadn’t pried until Stephen was ready to open up to him, just like he had promised in the shower on the sorcerer’s first morning back at home. 

Regardless, Stephen was met with a crushing wave of guilt every time he returned home through one of Wong’s gateways. Tony’s single dark, intelligent eye had a way of peering into his very soul that made the sorcerer squirm in agonized desolation, as he was forced to go back on his promise of never keeping something major from his partner after the whole incident with the fourteen million realities. Tony had been conditioned over years of constant betrayals to withhold his trust, and Stephen knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle losing the engineer’s trust after everything they had been through together. He tried to convince himself that Tony would understand, that their visceral bond would be enough to maintain Tony’s trust in him, but the irrational, fearful thoughts in the sorcerer’s mind were abundant, the only thing keeping him from confiding in Tony about the curse was the fact that he’d be putting him in immediate, horrendous danger in doing so. 

So, it was those late nights that he would both look forward to and dread after spending all day cramped up in the library, climbing those familiar porch steps usually to find Tony waiting for him on the porch swing, or curled up on the living room sofa on colder nights. The engineer would meet him with warm eyes and a bright smile as always, and Stephen had to work very hard not to crumple with a desperate need for comfort and safety. He managed to hold it together all day when he and Wong had so much work to do, endless piles of research to keep his emotions in check, but when he came home to Tony, all soft, grey warmth, his guard automatically dropped and it was a miracle he didn’t just disintegrate like he had on Titan.  That was the worst part of it all. Every time Stephen went home, the place he had always felt safe, he couldn’t truly relax as he was forced to pretend that he wasn’t in a desperate fight for his life. But Tony was an endless well of support and love, even if he thought he was consoling the sorcerer for something much less serious than a multiverse-threatening, life-ending curse.

On the night of his fifth day back at home, sometime around midnight, Stephen was swimming in exhaustion as he joined Tony on the porch swing where the engineer was waiting for him under the warm glow of the porch light, the gold of his cybernetic arm and life force pendant glinting dimly in the thick blanket of night surrounding the porch. This was the first night that Levi hadn’t been protectively settled around the engineer’s shoulders when Stephen came home, most likely accompanying Taj in keeping a watchful eye over the boys (Morgan was at her mom’s Queens townhouse) while they slept, due to the late hour. 

“Hey there, stranger”, Tony greeted softly, his smile bright and warm in a way that outshone the porch light a million to one. “You were working late again. Doesn’t Wong think he can take a break from being your slave driver, considering what you just got back from?” The warm concern in his tone was enough to make the sorcerer’s heart twinge in guilt, like a dry rubber band being plucked suddenly in the centre of his chest, though he managed a half smile as he settled onto the porch swing beside his boyfriend. 

“Oh, it’s not all his fault”, Stephen said lightly, tamping down the self loathing that rose in his throat as he relaxed into the feeling of the strong, caring arm that was wrapped around his shoulders, his exhausted body leaning sideways against Tony’s side a little. “We just have some things to tie up after last week. Documents and such.”

“You guys have documents? Like, actual honest-to-God paperwork?”, Tony teased as he pressed a kiss against Stephen’s midnight hair, oblivious to the fact that the sorcerer was lying through his teeth. “I thought it was all ancient rituals and memory spells or something.”

“Unfortunately, no. We have to bookkeep like everyone else”, Stephen muttered tiredly, eyelids drooping shut as he slid an aching, trembling hand between Tony’s warm belly and the side of his cardigan. The half silence of approaching night came up to rest around them, the grass humming with crickets and the auburn twinkling of fireflies, a soft breeze rushing through the willows on the lake shoreline like a whisper. Stephen had almost fallen asleep with his cheek pillowed against Tony’s shoulder when the engineer spoke suddenly. 

“Have you been drinking?”

“A little”, Stephen lied, eyes snapping open though he kept his head resting on the burgundy wool of Tony’s sweater. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Doc. You reek of whiskey. And don’t try to tell me I’m crazy, because I know that smell better than anything.” The defensive edge to Tony’s formerly soothing purr made the sorcerer lift his head as silver eyes met one hazel and one frosted blue, letting his hand slide across Tony’s stomach to his thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze now that the razor sharp cold had left the metal pins in his bones.

“Okay. I drank a little more than I should have”, Stephen muttered, doing his best to face the cold, hurt look in the engineer’s mismatched eyes. “It’s not an excuse, but Wong and I…we needed to relax a little. We’ve been really stressed after everything that happened last week, and all the work we’ve been doing — we just needed to let go for one night, Tony. I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry”, Tony sighed, the abrasive granite leaving his eyes and the tension of his shoulders, gently resting a warm, calloused palm on Stephen’s hand and giving a minute squeeze. “That’s…completely understandable, babe. You sure as hell don’t have to abstain just ‘cause I do. I…I guess I’m just not used to seeing you drink, so it threw me off a little.” Tony shifted a little to cup Stephen’s cheek in his cybernetic hand, the silicon palm smooth against his skin and Stephen’s heart fluttered at the tender gesture that he didn’t deserve. “But I know you went through hell this past week, and you still haven’t even given yourself a proper break, so it’s completely justified that you’d want to let go a bit. I just want you to take care of yourself, Doc”, Tony begged with those big, starry eyes of his, smirking at the irony of his words. “I know, I know. I’m a hypocrite. But if you won’t or can’t take care of yourself, at least let me.”

“You always take care of me”, Stephen retorted quietly, lost in his partner’s eyes and never-ending patience. The engineer just gave him a smile that creased his smile lines endearingly, his good eye twinkling in the low light.

“You know, I’m so proud of you, babe”, Tony told him after a moment of thoughtful silence, the sincerity in his voice making Stephen squirm. The protective surge in his chest was the only thing reminding him that the lies were necessary, all to keep his love safe. “Even when this goddamned job nearly kills you, I’m proud of the hard work you do and the dedication you have to protecting-“, Tony gestured skyward, up at the expanse of twinkling diamonds painted in the endless black, “-all of this. It really is incredible everything that you do.” Tony’s praise was too much, something Stephen felt he was undeserving of, especially as he sat on his growing hill of lies, choking back the self-loathing bile in his throat. 

“Thank you. But you’re the incredible one for putting up with me”, Stephen managed to rasp out, and Tony gave him a scolding look.

“I don’t put up with you, asshole, I love you. Every part of you”, Tony growled lovingly in conviction, standing with a huff as he offered the sorcerer his hand, eyes hopeful despite the way they both knew Stephen would follow him to the end of the multiverse without hesitation. “Come to bed with me, wizard?”

Stephen forgot about being tired once they got upstairs, every atom of his body just wanting to protect and cherish his amazing man, trying his best not to think about whether his remaining time with him would be limited. They shared a tender, longing kiss once they had crawled under the sheets together, but then Stephen couldn’t stop kissing him, pressing into that familiar, warm, coffee-tasting mouth and Tony reciprocated more than willingly, already moaning softly with a needy tongue pressing against the sorcerer’s after three weeks apart. Stephen knew he must taste strongly of whiskey, but Tony didn’t shy away in the least, letting the sorcerer pull him on top of his body in a silent signal, a wordless plea almost, for what he so desperately wanted in that moment. Stephen had his arms wrapped loosely around his partner’s neck while they made love face to face, sharing breath as they showered each other in kisses and affectionate praise, holding on to each other while Tony rocked into him gently and surely. There was nothing loud or explosive about this type of sex, it was slow and tender and exactly what Stephen needed. He needed to let go of the reins and be taken care of, to forget about everything that was going on in his head for just a little while. And it was surely working as the whispers in his mind and the aches in his body were quieted, numbed by the half bottle of whiskey in his bloodstream and the warm, heavy euphoria Tony was sending coursing through his body.

They needed to be quiet since the kids were home (a thoughtful spell flicking the lock shut on their bedroom door), but Stephen was never that loud in the first place, despite the almost agonizingly slow but gratifying pace Tony had set, as if he knew exactly what his lover needed merely by looking him in the eyes. It was only Tony who had to stifle his moans against Stephen’s shoulder, breathy grunts that slipped out with each steady thrust as the sorcerer clung to him like a lifeline. Overwhelmed tears welled in Stephen’s eyes as he compared this simple, joyous pleasure in juxtaposition to the all-consuming dread and despair that had become his reality, a bubble of frustration trapped in his throat as he wished for nothing more than to be allowed to live this wonderful life with Tony, to get to marry him sooner than later, to spend the rest of their days loving each other so much that it sometimes hurt.

But a gentle, calloused palm cupping Stephen’s cheek dragged him mercilessly back out of his own mind, away from the terrible reality of the world and back into the moment. Stephen turned his head to kiss Tony’s hand, silvery eyes glittering with tears as he smiled in simple adoration, letting his partner know that everything was okay, at least in this moment. He just focused on the feeling of Tony inside him, his comforting weight trapping the sorcerer's errant soul in his chest, Stephen's core finally contracting in a delicious, aching warmth as they came together. All Stephen could focus on was the stars amongst the darkness behind his eyelids, lost in a cacophony of bliss that came in rolling waves while Tony’s soft kisses on his face slowly drew him from the heavens back into his lover’s arms. Not a single spoken word was needed as they could both feel the soul-regenerating love flowing between their life force halves, as if ‘I love you’ was ridiculous in its simplicity compared to the astral connection and understanding held between them. They held each other in their eyes, Stephen looking up deeply into those gorgeous mismatched eyes, cradling Tony’s scarred cheek as the engineer leaned down for a soft, messy kiss. Stephen lost track of time, losing himself in sleepy but gratifying kisses, Tony’s weight a comfort on top of his aching body as they fell asleep holding each other, once again simplified to nothing more than the two fractured halves of a single wandering star. 

*****

The next morning, August sixth, marked Harley’s twenty second birthday, and Tony woke up unusually early with eager anticipation for the day, easing out of bed as carefully as possible to avoid waking the still sleeping sorcerer. Shuffling downstairs with a hungry, mewling kitten at his heels, Tony thought he was the first one up until he noticed the coffee pot on the stove, freshly brewed and half full of that heavenly, dark liquid, enough to stir the engineer into wakefulness as the coffee pot signalled to him that at least one of his sons was awake. After dishing a scoop of kibble into Jarvis’ food bowl, Tony rooted around in the cupboard for a mug, noticing the distinct lack of a spoon left anywhere on the counter or in the sink. _Ah. Harley._ The older boy tended to take his coffee black as motor oil, just as Tony did, while Peter always insisted on copious amounts of sugar and milk, not that caffeine and sugar had much affect on his enhanced metabolism in the first place. But at least Tony knew who he was sharing the early morning with, taking a chance on his gut intuition as he stepped out onto the front porch, into the surprisingly cool, grey dawn, his Birkenstocks immediately soaked through from dew-covered grass as he trudged his way to the garage. 

The raspy vocals of a Johnny Cash song served as a background hum over the workshop speakers when Tony stepped inside to be met with the familiar smell of freshly welded metal, eyes immediately drawn to the quiet, focused form of his eldest kid. Harley was sitting on Tony’s stool while hunched over the workbench, nimble fingers working on some intricate gadget that he casually shoved into a drawer the second he noticed Tony’s presence, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he gave his dad a grin in greeting. 

“Hey, old man. You’re never out here this early”, Harley mentioned easily, the teasing in his tone almost hiding the nervous fiddling of his hands, grasping at whatever piece of metal was within reach, anything to detract from his obvious secret project.

“Just checking on my birthday boy. And stealing his coffee”, Tony added, ruffling the boy’s sandy blond hair as he took a sip from his mug. “Secret project?”, he winked, though he had no plans to pry any further. The boys were allowed to experiment all they wanted, as long as they didn’t blow anything up or create a bomb, Tony trusted his sons and was fair game to help them with whatever they wanted to build. He understood if Harley wanted to keep whatever he was making a secret, as both boys tended to put their talents to use in creating surprise birthday presents for their family member and friends, Tony’s birthday present from Peter being a perfect example. 

“Something like that”, Harley mumbled non-committedly and Tony gave his shoulder a warm squeeze to show that he wasn’t upset with him, merely curious at the most. Comfortable silence fell between them as Harley continued to fiddle with one of Peter’s malfunctioning trackers that he’d grabbed as a decoy from his true project, Tony sipping his coffee as the kid’s own mug sat empty on the worktable beside him. The engineer noticed with warming pride in his chest that his own threadbare MIT sweatshirt was hanging off Harley’s lanky shoulders, the sleeves a little too short for him even though that never stopped him from stealing Tony’s clothes. 

“You ready for your birthday, tater?”, Tony asked, his voice still rough with sleep as he couldn’t help but continue to brush his hand softly through the boy’s mess of blond hair (Tony’s fingers finding the scar on his scalp where the kid’s mother had broken a whiskey bottle over his head, but it was best not to think about that right now), feeling sentimental and maybe just a tad old as he watched his kids grow up before his eyes. 

“Yeah, but you guys better not have any surprises planned or I’ll clobber the bunch of ya”, Harley warned gruffly, though he was practically pressing his head against Tony’s good hand like some sort of cat. It had taken nearly a decade, but the scruffy kid he’d picked up in Tennessee was finally admitting to liking physical affection, despite how much effort he put into keeping up his rough-and-tumble facade. What warmed Tony’s heart more than anything was how the untrusting kid had gone from outright despising his wizard to confiding in him regularly. Tony didn’t mind if they had private conversations that he wasn’t made privy to, as long as Harley got the support he needed. He just so happened to prefer said support coming from the socially awkward, rough-around-the-edges sorcerer who had so gracefully stumbled into their lives. 

“No, no surprises, just the one thing we already planned”, Tony soothed, knowing that his eldest didn’t do well with anything that wasn’t unplanned. The kid was chaotic and spontaneous to be sure, but anything impromptu from other people was taken as an attack to Harley’s traumatized mind. “I know you don’t want to make a big hoopla out of any of this, which is why I actually wanted to give you one of your presents a bit early. It would get too big of a reaction if I did it in front of everybody else. And I know you don’t like that.”

“That sounds like a surprise to me”, Harley countered, blue eyes flickering around as he eyed his dad warily. 

“Maybe a little one, but you trust me, don’t you?”, Tony asked while meeting those fearful ocean blues, squeezing the boy’s shoulder gently with a hopeful smile. Most of the time, he still saw that lost, lonely little kid he’d met around Christmas over a decade ago, and Tony’s heart pounded in loving anticipation for the unpremeditated gift he wanted to give Harley, convinced that it would help ease the endlessly fractured pieces of his son’s heart. 

“Yeah, I guess”, Harley muttered while averting his gaze, focusing on the banged up tracker in his restless hands. Words had never been his strong suit, but Tony knew not to take his lackadaisical response to heart, knowing that there was so much more beneath all of those dysfunctional layers of defensiveness and trust issues. Tony took his response as genuine as he went to his desk and pulled a large, yellow envelope out of the top drawer, walking back over to place it carefully in front of Harley on the worktable wordlessly watching the kid’s wary expression. “What’s in it?”, Harley asked, eyeing the manila envelope like it might contain a bomb

“Come on, it’s not gonna bite you. Just open it”, Tony prompted gently, leaning a hip against the side of the workbench despite the buzzing excitement in his chest, probably not helped by the massive mug of coffee he’d just downed. “I promise it’s not anything bad, Har bear.” Harley would have usually protested at the mushy nickname, but all of his focus was held by the envelope which he picked up in trembling hands, calloused fingers fumbling with the seal before he pulled it open and slid out the short stack of papers held within. Tony’s heart was pounding in his throat as he watched Harley’s eyes skim over the first page in confusion before an understanding light reached his eyes.

“Is this-?”, Harley croaked, meeting Tony’s face with disbelieving shock as he held the stack of adoption papers up in the air, hand trembling like he had a rattlesnake by the throat. The wary look in his eyes said that he wouldn’t believe this until Tony confirmed it, that this was too good to be true. 

“Yeah, I’m adopting you, kid”, Tony rasped, biting his lower lip to keep the tears from flowing. “I thought maybe…you wouldn’t mind this surprise. Everything’s ready, you just have to sign”, he explained, pointing a finger to a dotted line on the front page as steadily as possible, a wet chuckle slipping out through the oncoming tears that were threatening to rain down. God, he was getting soft in his old age. “That’s only if you want to, of course. Unless you think it would be too embarrassing to have me as your dad. Then no pressure.”

“You’re embarrassing as hell either way. This isn’t going to change anythin’”, Harley smiled tearfully though still numb with disbelief, brushing a thumb against the smooth paper of the document. His nose scrunched up, face flushed with the overwhelming embarrassment of such vulnerability as he looked up to meet Tony’s eyes. “You really want me as your kid? Like, for real?” Harley’s brow was pinched, the coarse pain in his voice making Tony’s heart break right in half. 

“Harley, you’ve been my kid since that day in your garage”, Tony soothed despite the way his voice caught in his throat, stepping forward to brace both hands on his boy’s shoulders. “Remember? The February after we met? And you pranked me to come into the backroom before shooting at me with your potato gun. My fucking thumb was sprained for a week.” Tony smiled brightly through his tears, feeling Harley’s shoulders shaking under his hands. He was looking right into the kid’s unguarded, blue eyes and he could see his resolve crumbling. “And I still loved you after that, because I was meant to be your dad. So, the better question is: Do you want me as your dad? Officially?”

“Of course I want you, you big idiot. I’m stuck with you, apparently”, Harley snapped weakly, his voice sounding like he was underwater with all the tears he was holding back. Tony couldn’t stand it anymore as he pulled Harley up from his stool and into his arms, wrapping his boy up in a tight hug and feeling him reciprocate immediately. Harley wrapped lanky arms around his neck, finally letting his tears out in muffled sobs against his dad’s shoulder, and Tony hushed him quietly while rubbing his kid’s back with one hand, wondering to himself when his son had gotten so goddamn tall and skinny. He was starting to remind him of Stephen, especially with the way the twenty-two-year-old had to lean down to hide his face against the neck of Tony’s sweatshirt.

“I know paper doesn’t really mean anything in the grand scheme of things, but I wanted to make it official. I mean, you’re mine whether the government says so or not, but this just…solidifies that”, Tony muttered softly beside his ear, cheeks still damp with tears even though the frantic pounding of his heart had slowed now that his boy was safe in his arms. All he ever wanted was for his kids to be happy and safe. “You’re part of the Stark family, you belong to us and nothing is ever gonna change that.” Tony’s words sounded almost possessive to his own ears, but he knew it was what Harley needed to hear. He needed to know that he wasn’t going to be abandoned, or thrown out on his own like last week’s trash. “I want you to know that you’re home, kid. This is always going to be where you can come back to, to be safe and taken care of if you need to be.”

“Shut up, old man”, Harley whimpered, overflowing with emotion and praise that he didn’t think he deserved, and Tony knew it was just his way of saying ‘I love you’. Despite his words, Harley kept clinging to his dad with shaking arms, letting out a shuddering breath as the exhaustion of feeling so much at once caught up to him. Tony was relieved that his boy didn’t pull back, to feel him still pressed up against him like Harley was trying to absorb every ounce of love and comfort that the engineer could ever offer. It just so happened that Tony had an endless supply of both. 

“You’re mine, you’re my baby boy”, Tony whispered, a peaceful, loving smile finding its way onto his face involuntarily, content with the weight of his decision as Harley’s shaky sobs subsided. “There you go. I’ve got you.”

“Does the Doc know?”, Harley warbled suddenly, turning his head a little so his voice wasn’t completely muffled by Tony’s sweatshirt. The uncertainty in his voice was enough to make Tony’s heart crumble again, wishing more than anything that he could convince his boy that he was loved unconditionally. 

“Yeah, he knows. And he’s all for it, 100% supportive, reassured me a million times about the whole thing, even told me what a good idea he thought it was”, Tony relayed reassuringly, slowly rubbing Harley’s back with both hands as the kid remained lax in his arms, practically melting against his chest. “But he did bring up that…if he and I were to ever get married…or something”, — Tony managed to stutter out without his cheeks heating up too much — ,”That he’d love for the guardianship to extend to him as well… If that’s something you’d be up for?”

“What? So I can call him ‘Doctor Dad’ like your precious spider baby does?”, Harley snarked, but Tony could hear all the love held within the insulting undertone to his voice. He felt the boy relax in his arms even further, strong fingers gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt. “But maybe havin’ a mom would be okay”, Harley mumbled after a thoughtful silence. Tony was practically beaming, Harley’s words like a golden salve to every ache and pain he’d ever had in his chest, pressing a grateful kiss to the boy’s cheek as he pulled back a little.

“C’mon. Let’s go get breakfast going for spider baby and your mom, then.”

*****

His twenty second birthday was turning out to be the best that Harley had ever had.

As Tony had promised, there was no big celebration, no extra people invited over, and certainly no embarrassing singing. It was just the four of them (as Morgan was still at her mom’s house in Queens) and Harley had requested to not be treated any differently just because he’d survived another trip around the sun, outright refusing the idea of any extravagant gifts. The less attention that was put to him, the better. 

Tony had already broken his promise about embarrassing singing even before breakfast was made, but at least it wasn’t ‘Happy Birthday’, so Harley couldn’t complain too much. It felt good to have an hour or so alone with his dad while they made breakfast and drank coffee, the sun rising and filtering into the kitchen through the willow trees, setting a golden glow to the morning and Tony’s laugh as Harley felt his usually numb heart warming from the inside out. Damn Tony, ambushing him in the garage and making him feel things. The engineer was so easy to talk to, always had been, and Harley relished their conversation about country music and tracking devices until Peter and the Doc stumbled down the stairs around the same time, drawn to the kitchen by the heavenly scent of scrambled eggs, bacon, and home fries, Harley’s long standing favourite breakfast. Unfortunately, Harley couldn’t bear to choke down more than a plateful of the rich food as his nerves got the better of him. 

He and Tony had scheduled a tattoo appointment for today months in advance, a wordless, private celebration of their father-son relationship now that the world wasn’t crashing down around them, but the reality of the day finally arriving was wreaking havoc with Harley’s fear of the unknown. He voiced his concerns as nonchalantly as possible, Tony immediately offering a reassuring arm around his shoulders, while the Doc chimed in about it really not being all that painful. Harley wouldn’t take his word for it, though, since he knew that the sorcerer’s pain tolerance was ridiculously high, probably as a result of all the protection spells and shields he had swarming around himself constantly. Regardless, he wasn’t about to back out, especially not in front of Peter, and he found himself and Tony leaving the safety of the cabin with the promise to be back before noon. Despite Tony’s gut-leaching aversion to being driven anywhere, he let Harley drive them and the GT-R into the city, a welcome distraction to the fluttering nerves that were filling up every inch of his body. 

Soon enough, he was in a chair at the parlour on the West side, gripping Tony’s good hand as the engineer underwent prep in the chair beside his. Tony had taken his hand without question, his grip warm and steady, and it was his dad’s casual air about the whole ordeal, the way he was joking with the tattoo artist even as the needle was being driven into his skin, that finally eased Harley’s fear-driven nausea. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as he had imagined it, not as bad as the cigarettes his mom used to put out on his back, not as bad as his cracked skull that wouldn’t stop bleeding, or when she would come home screaming at him to-. No. This was going to be a happy moment, a happy memory with Tony, and nothing could take that away from him.

At the end of the session, all that anxiety had been well worth it now that Harley had a fresh, black-inked tattoo to show for it. He and Tony stood in front of a mirror side by side appraising the new, matching marks on their skin, a small, simple “Mark II” and “Mark I” respectively, right under their left clavicle. Harley reached up to trace around the reddened skin in awe, and the proud, almost beaming smile Tony was giving him let him know that a tiny bit of pain had been more than worth it. **_It’s better to feel pain than nothing at all_**. And that’s what this tattoo would remind him whenever he felt like dropping down into that bottomless black pit of self-loathing and substance abuse that was all the norm in a backroad hick town. The tattoo also reminded him who had dragged him out of that pit, into a better life, into the caring arms and loving heart that he never imagined he would deserve. Tony knew his past, he understood, and Harley would never be alone as long as he had him. 

———

They were back at the cabin in time for the lunch that Peter had made, a huge pot of macaroni and cheese that Harley couldn't fully enjoy once they learned that Stephen had been called away to the Sanctum, taking Levi with him this time. Harley’s appetite waned when he saw the poorly-hidden crestfallen look on his dad’s face at the news, since the sorcerer had scheduled the day off specifically, though Harley thought to himself that that didn’t mean much when the Doc had been spending every day at the Sanctum since he got back. Harley thought that the Sorcerer Supreme would have taken a few days off after being gone for three long, lonely weeks, but the bitter part of his mind suggested that maybe they just weren’t worth that effort. 

He had been hoping to continue their sexuality conversation from three weeks ago as Stephen had promised, but the sorcerer had been spending all day and well into the night at the library with Wong instead, so Harley thought that maybe it had been an empty promise after all. His faith in the sorcerer had been shattered, as it was hard not to feel a bit dejected about the whole situation, but nothing matched the unjust rage burning in his chest when he saw how much Stephen’s absence was hurting his dad. The past three weeks had been torture enough, as Harley was the one who tried to herd his dad towards bed each night, met with stubborn protest and pleas of understanding at the pointless act, since they both knew the engineer’s anxiety would never allow him to sleep without the sorcerer safely by his side. Tony was too good and kind to be subjected to this almost indifferent treatment, and the protectiveness Harley felt over the engineer usurped any of the self pity he had about the Doc’s recent letdown. Harley held loyalty as a quality above all else, his fear of abandonment kicking in as it felt like the sorcerer was pulling away from them all, all while hating that he was so strongly affected by the actions of a man whose opinion he tried to convince himself that he didn’t care about, but he knew his hard ass facade had been broken the second he first called the sorcerer ‘Mom’. 

Despite the uncomfortably large hole in the room create day the sorcerer’s absence, Tony insisted that the boys continue their plans for the afternoon. Harley’s instincts told him to stay home and comfort his dad, but the combination of the engineer’s pleading eyes and knowing he had Jarvis for company, drove Harley out the door with slightly less guilt, though he imparted a rare kiss on his dad’s cheek for good measure. Taj trailed them out the front door to the garage, fluffy tail waving happily as he waited patiently for the boys to grab their gear. It had become an almost daily habit since Peter came back from Europe for the two of them to grab their rollerblades and long board, taking them out for lazy afternoon rides down one of the paved backcountry roads near the cabin. The only road with smooth enough asphalt to do so was surrounded by farmer's fields on both sides, and therefore didn’t get much traffic, so it was perfect to be able to coast down the middle of the road, Taj trotting beside them dutifully. It may have been a newfound camaraderie after Peter’s near death experience with Beck that prompted Harley to be a little more gentle around the teen, the reminder of his fragile mortality a surefire way of reminding the twenty-two-year-old how much the younger boy meant to him. 

“Uh, hey”, Peter said abruptly as they trudged down the driveway with their gear in hand, waiting until they got to the paved road to start riding. “Dad said we weren’t doing your presents all at once, so…here.” Peter dug into his back jeans pocket, unceremoniously handing over a new roll of long board grip tape and a handful of stickers for the underneath of the board, including one of the MIT logo. 

“Hey, thanks, man. I’ve been needing new grip tape all summer”, Harley grinned, meeting the teen’s eyes with genuine appreciation, longboard tucked under one arm as he inspected one of the other stickers. “Dude, is this the Spider Man logo?”

“Maybe”, Peter responded, cheeks flushing visibly as he sat down in the grass at the side of the road to pull his rollerblades on.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you nerd. I love it”, Harley said with a bark of laughter, though he meant every word, his cheeks aching from smiling so much. That was a weird feeling. He ignored the overabundance of emotion by looking at the third sticker. “Oh, Iron Man helmet? Solid. That way Dad can nag me for not wearing a helmet even when he isn’t here.” His comment managed to pull a grin across Peter’s face, Harley shoving the stickers and tape into his front jean pockets carefully before he offered his hands and hauled the teen to his feet. 

“You called him ‘Dad’ instead of Tony”, Peter observed shrewdly, and Harley resisted the urge to push the teen back onto his ass in the ditch. The twenty-two-year-old would admit (to himself) that he avoided calling Tony by his fatherly title unless they were alone, but all of the emotion of getting adopted that morning had made his guard slip, a searing retort ready on his tongue, but Peter beat him to speaking. “That’s good. It makes him really happy when you do that.” Peter’s nonjudgemental words made Harley’s brain freeze before he wordlessly dropped his long board, stepping onto it before he pushed off a few times, coasting down the slight incline of the road as the warm summer breeze ruffled his hair, Taj trotting beside him with his tongue lolling out in apparent bliss. He heard Peter stepping quickly in his roller blades behind him in order to catch up, though doing so didn’t require much effort given his enhanced strength, giving the older boy a Cheshire cat grin as he went sailing past. 

“Piss off, Parker”, Harley called, although he’d never been so happy in his life, letting out a gentle huff of laughter as he weaved lazily back and forth across the road. A caressing wind rippled through the surrounding wheat fields, reminding him of home without reminding him too much of home, watching as the teen’s flannel flowed behind him in the breeze, the golden glow of the afternoon sun warming him from the inside out. 

———

“Tony told me he’s been teaching you.”

Harley’s head whipped around at the sorcerer’s unexpected presence in the doorway, glowering at the taller man from his place on the piano bench in the back den. The Doc had been able to return home in time for dinner, much to Tony’s relief, thought Harley couldn’t help but take note that it was only his second dinner shared with them in the past week. Dinner had resumed as usual, casual and familiar, but Harley had been too focused on giving the sorcerer the cold shoulder to even taste the heavenly chocolate cake that Tony had made for him. Harley had retreated from the table as soon as he’d thanked Tony for the amazing dinner and cake, slinking away to the back den as he fingered the keys of the old piano, fond recent memories of the past three weeks when Tony had offered to teach him, now tainted by the sorcerer’s presence. He wished the Doc would piss off already, but he also wanted to hear his gentle, rumbling voice telling him everything was alright more than anything. 

“He says you almost have Für Elise mastered. That’s pretty impressive”, Stephen continued when Harley refused to answer, the kid’s eyes locked on the distant horizon that he could see through the sliding glass doors. He heard the sorcerer’s near silent footfalls as the man walked behind Harley to settle down on the den sofa with a pained huff, the boy’s heart strings twining traitorously as a small part of his mind wondered what kind of injuries the sorcerer had endured over the past three weeks. All of Harley’s empathy disappeared as the Doc spoke again. “My hands can’t play that fast anymore, but I’d love to hear you play sometime

“I don’t want to talk to you, wizard. Take a hint”, Harley growled, his posture ramrod straight with tension as he kept his back to the sorcerer.

“Ah, we’re back to ‘wizard’, are we?”, Stephen said knowingly, his voice so relaxed and nonchalant that it sent a shiver up Harley’s spine. Another moment of silence passed before the sorcerer exhaled with steady impatience. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me, Harley. I’m pissed at me too. But what do you want me to say? I wish I never had to leave you kids and your dad, but I have to do my job, and sometimes I miscalculate the timing of when I’m going to be back.” His voice was steady, deep, comforting, everything Harley had missed, that rumbling baritone softening as he continued. “But that doesn't mean I love you four any less.” Oh, that was the worst thing he could have said. Words meant nothing. Words were bullshit when your actions didn’t match them. But Harley squirmed uncomfortably as the sorcerer hit the nail on the head with everything he was feeling, but his resentment wouldn’t allow him to forgive and forget so easily just because Stephen had identified and acknowledged their sore point. 

“Fuck you”, Harley spat out like a bloody, broken tooth, because Stephen’s words might as well have been a sucker punch to the jaw. He was reminded of Tony’s anxious, lonely, depressed, heartbroken expression after the sorcerer had left, how that expression had worsened over three weeks until he could barely recognize the usually vibrant sun of a man he called his father.

“Fine. Curse at me. Blame me. That’s fine. Its not anything I haven’t already said to myself. Just talk to me”, Stephen pleaded calmly, and Harley hated the understanding in his voice. 

“I don’t want to talk to you”, Harley repeated more forcefully this time, spinning around on the bench to face the sorcerer, only to emphasize his point. He regretted it immediately as he was thrown off by how soft and familiar the Doc looked wearing one of Tony’s old MIT sweatshirts, his guard almost dropping completely before he pulled it back up hastily. 

“Well, cursing at me isn’t going to help fix this”, the Doc reasoned, eyebrows raised slightly in a way that made his forehead crinkle a little. He looked too old and almost vulnerable in that moment, something ancient and pained behind those tired grey eyes, and Harley loathed the surge of sympathy that flickered in his chest. 

“I know. But it’s a lot less satisfying to curse out the universe. It doesn’t speak back or tell me to quit being a dick.”

“Quit being a dick”, Stephen deadpanned while looking him directly in the eye, though Harley caught the quick twitch at the corner of his mouth. The twenty-two-year-old almost fell back into the comfortable rhythm of their usual banter, but the aching abandonment of the past month caught back up to him. 

“You’re the dick. You leave for three weeks, which you can’t control, okay, I get that. But then you finally get home and you’re right back to work. You haven’t even bothered to spend any time with us. Do you even give a fuck about us?” Harley knew he had crossed a line as his temper flared, knew as he saw the crushed look in the sorcerer’s grey eyes that he’d taken it too far. But the Doc was a patient man, he had patience in spades, something that annoyed Harley to no end. He expected the sorcerer to yell and take his anger out on him, and almost wished that he would, but he knew that Stephen would never do that. 

“Tony told me how the past three weeks have been for you”, the Doc breathed out in his never ending patience, scarred fingers clasped together on his lap. “You can’t shut your dad out like you have been. You need to be able to talk with him about things.” 

“I wanted to talk with _you_, and you weren’t here”, Harley spat out, disgusted by his own honesty. Living with these people had gotten him far too comfortable with expressing his emotions. 

“I’m here now”, the Doc pointed out gently, grey eyes turning deep green in the light of the setting sun. “And I wanted to continue our talk that Wong so rudely interrupted, but I can see you’re not in the mood for that.” Harley had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming, because that was what he wanted more than anything. That’s what he had wanted all along, the sorcerer had just been forced to hold the multiverse as a higher priority than their stupid, overly-emotional talks. But despite the boiling injustice raging in his chest, Harley wanted to share things with this man, he wanted to spill out all his emotions until he was just a toppled over jar that had had its lid sealed tightly for too long.

“Everything you said…about finding out what makes me happy”, Harley mumbled, letting the words bubble out past his lips, picking at a hangnail anxiously as he looked anywhere but those understanding ocean-colored eyes. “Uh, so after our talk…I-I called Raj. Then we got to talking…and we have plans to meet up once school starts again, since he lives in Massachusetts anyway. But he still goes to MIT. Nothing…weird. Just hanging out.” Harley was boiling in an uncomfortable surge of emotion, but it felt so good to get that off his chest, just to share it with the man who’d given him the courage to reach out to his crush in the first place.

“That’s amazing, Harley. I’m happy for you”, the Doc said with genuine pride, and Harley finally allowed himself to meet those piercing eyes again, shivering as he felt like they saw right through him.

“Thanks.” Harley’s gaze dropped to his lap, tearing his hangnail off so that it bled. **_It’s better to feel pain than nothing at all._** He was practically brimming with three weeks worth of unspoken words he’d been wishing he could say to his-. _His what?_ His eyes flickered up to meet Stephen’s eyes again, and the sorcerer smiled in that gentle, lopsided way he had. _His mom. _His dad. His Doctor Dad. Whatever the fuck he called him, he had sorely missed this man.

“Come here”, the Doc said gently, gesturing with his head to the empty seat beside him, and Harley walked over shakily to sit at the far end of the couch, as far away from the sorcerer as he could get, because he honestly couldn’t trust himself not to just fall into his arms at this point. He was sick of pretending to be a hard ass without emotions all the time, and right now he just wanted to be held. 

“I’m never going to leave you guys by choice, you know”, the Doc muttered, his voice unbearably gentle, pleading in his eyes, though he made no move to initiate physical contact.

“Okay”, Harley breathed, not sure how to respond. He believed him even though he didn’t want to, a lifetime of trust issues screaming at him, insisting that the kind sorcerer his dad loved shouldn’t be the exception. 

“I love you, Harley. I want to do my best for you”, the Doc said, far too calm and level for the weight his words carried as he looked at Harley like he knew the emotional, mental turmoil he was fighting right now, and maybe he did. 

“Shut up”, Harley nearly gagged, eyes burning with tears as his brain froze. All he could focus on was the sensation of his fingers digging into the arm of the couch as he stared back into kind, silvery indigo eyes. 

“No.”

“Fuck you”, Harley tried again, struggling to breathe as the panic mounted in his chest at the sincerity. He didn’t deserve this. It was everything he wanted, but he shouldn’t have it. He should still be mad at the sorcerer anyway, he should be cursing him out right now, for all the pain he had caused Tony. 

“I still love you. That’s never going to change, even if I haven’t figured out this whole ‘mom’ thing yet”, the Doc muttered, eyes soft with sympathetic tenderness, looking far too comforting in Tony’s sweatshirt, and far too old as Harley saw some grey in his beard that he hadn’t noticed a month ago. _Fuck_, he loved him so much. 

“I hate you.”

I know”, the Doc sighed, sounding far too old again as he rummaged in the pocket of his jeans for something, holding it out to Harley with one big, scarred hand. “Here.” Harley’s fingers brushed the sorcerer’s warm, magic-roughened palm as he numbly plucked the proffered gift, turning it over in his own hands as the sorcerer continued. “I was in the Kamar Taj market looking for something special to get you when I saw that. It reminded me of Tony, but I’ve already got this”, —he tapped his silver arc reactor pendant with a shaking finger— ,”so I thought you might like it.” It was only then that Harley’s frozen mind registered what he was holding. It was a necklace made of adjustable black cord, the small pendant a simple blue circle with a ring of silver surrounding it, simple lines etched into the metal. Harley blinked as he realized that it looked like Tony’s arc reactor, the same one the engineer had had glowing in his chest when they first met. 

Harley didn’t even quite register that he had moved until he realized that he had crawled forward, practically sitting in the sorcerer’s lap as he sobbed against his chest. The Doc’s big, caring arms were wrapped around him, a trembling hand rubbing his back soothingly as he finally let himself cry his heart out, letting out all the tears that had been building up over the past month. God fucking damnit, he wished he didn’t have to deal with all of these gross emotions, but right now he was drowning in them, finally feeling safe to do so in the sorcerer’s sturdy embrace. Harley’s cries were muffled as he hid his face against the Doc’s broad chest, clenching the necklace tightly in his fist until he was afraid he might break it. But maybe he was the one breaking as he cried until it felt like his ribs were cracking open, exposing his raw, aching heart to the unforgiving world like a bare nerve. He was breaking, but the Doc was putting him back together with strong arms braced around his ribcage, keeping his innards safe from the unforgiving world. Everything hurt, but it felt good to finally let himself feel something. And the deep, stabbing pain under his breastbone numbed to an almost reassuring ache as he gasped for air, exhausted from crying so hard while he tried to focus on the feeling of gentle fingers weakly threading through his messy hair. The sorcerer’s gentle touch, and the fact that Harley’s face was pressed against the MIT sweatshirt the Doc was wearing, meant that he was comforted by the familiar scents of both his parents, a soothing mix of coffee, tea, motor oil, magic, cologne, and incense. Harley’s breathing began to even out as he was lulled into a comfortable state of being, the sorcerer’s soothing touch mixed with his bodily warmth making Harley groggy with exhaustion he hadn’t even realized he was fighting. 

“I don’t hate you”, Harley wheezed out, his throat absolutely ravaged from crying so hard, but a gentle kiss pressed to the top of his head (right on his whiskey bottle scar) eased his self conscious worries, the sorcerer’s hold around his aching body only loosening slightly so that he was comfortable. 

“I know.”

*****

It was hard for two people, even the most emotionally-disciplined and qualified of people, to consistently keep a positive attitude after a week straight of painstakingly searching through hundreds of dense tomes in a dark, musty library. 

Stephen’s relationship with Wong had always been fraught with differences, but they had also been magnetically drawn to one another from the beginning, balancing each other out with stability and occasional sassy banter. Now Stephen’s high strung temper and Wong’s strong expectations for results were all that was left a week into their desperate search for a counter curse, camped out in a dingy back corner of the library as they had been for thirteen hours straight, the oily glow of a few surrounding lamps the only source of light surrounding their gloom. 

They sat across from each other, silent in each other’s miserable company with stacks of books surrounding them on all sides, sorted into piles of tomes that had already been searched through, and ones that still had yet to be inspected. An empty tea cup sat on the side table at Wong’s left elbow, while Stephen’s now habitual tumbler of whiskey kept him company, warm and sour in all its guilt-inducing comfort. Hallucinations had started two days ago and he was more than willing to drown those out as quickly as he could, terrified at the thought of losing his grip on reality. Stephen’s terminal condition weighed heavy on his mind while he sat with an aching back in an under-stuffed armchair, irritated by the weight of the tome on his lap that smelled like something had died in it. The inked scrawl on the stained page before him was all in Sanskrit, and his booze-fuzzy mind easily wandered to all of the lost hours spent apart from his family that he had effectively just wasted searching through a book that would prove to be useless in their goal. 

“This is pointless”, Stephen announced in a sudden huff, slamming the book shut with a spell and attempting to set it on top of one of the many teetering piles, only to have the stack of tomes sent tumbling to the floor as his whiskey-soaked mind had trouble gauging distance while holding onto the spell. He glared at the strewn mess of books before continuing. “We know we’re not going to find anything that can break this curse entirely. The only thing that’s going to do that is if we find Mordo.”

“Yes, well, half of Kamar Taj is doing exactly that as we speak”, Wong pointed out with an unimpressed raised brow. Many masters of the mystic arts had been searching for Mordo in the past four days, but due to his cloaking abilities and immense power, little progress had been made. “But you’re in no fit condition to assist with that anyway. We need to find something that will at least start chipping away at the curse before it ruins you”, he added unaffectedly, sending a judging glance at the whiskey Stephen had been working on, a little less than a third of its amber contents left in the bottom of the tall Jack Daniel’s bottle. Stephen was too numb to care, his body immersed in sharp ribbons of pain that were threaded through every muscle, every bone, every nerve. And the pounding in his head at least became less noticeable with enough alcohol in his system. 

“It’s taking too long”, Stephen snapped in irritation, sitting back in his chair and taking another sip of searing auburn liquid as he tried not to think about what would happen if Tony saw him like this. “We need to find Mordo before he decides that he’s had enough of being patient, before he decides to take it out on my family. Especially Tony.”

“How about you focus on what’s important instead of sounding like an ungrateful child?”, Wong snapped back, clearly at the end of his rope, patience worn thin as he watched his proud, competent friend crumble to pieces before him. “The multiverse is at stake and all you can think about is your boyfriend”, Wong growled at him directly, before lowering his eyes back to the tome in his own lap, muttering darkly. “We wouldn’t even be in this mess if your magic wasn’t at half of it’s original strength because of him.”

“Excuse me?”, Stephen asked, silver eyes snapping as he leaned forward in his chair a little. Wong didn’t waiver in the least, meeting his eyes with honest resolution. 

“You’ve given up nearly everything for Stark, and here you are again, putting the multiverse at risk because you’re only concerned for his protection.”

“Of course I’m concerned for his protection! He’s my hus-!” Stephen caught himself before he let it slip. He thought of Tony as his husband most of the time thanks to the fourteen million, had almost slipped up countless times, and the whiskey wasn’t helping. The dry, knowing look on the librarian’s face was too much and Stephen’s embarrassment led him to switching topics quickly. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t have saved the universe’s saviour? _Our_ universe, Wong?! Wouldn’t that, by extension, be considered as me failing to do my duty as protector of the multiverse?!

“Don’t twist my words, Stephen”, Wong growled, folding the dusty tome in his lap. “It should have been on you to protect the universe. And you shouldn’t have had to tear yourself apart after the fact because your emotions got the better of you.” Stephen felt his eye twitch at the librarian’s words, hot rage trapped under his breastbone and choking him as he leaned forward in his chair, whiskey nearly sloshing out of the glass in his hand as he met his friend’s gaze with a murderous glare.

“What? Giving up the time Stone?”, he asked, narrowing his eyes in question, and Wong narrowed his eyes right back, clearly gauging how mentally sound his friend was at this point. Between the pain and the alcohol, Stephen was certain he didn’t have a single clear thought in his head, but he needed to yell at something right now. “That was the only way! How many times do I have to tell people that?! Do you think I wanted to do that?!” He gestured empathetically from his seat, pointing an almost accusing finger at Wong as the glass shook in his unsteady hands. “Do you think I wanted to die, to put Tony through five years of grief, to have Tony tear himself apart to save everything?!” He didn’t give Wong the chance to respond, snapping viciously. “No! Of course I didn’t! But that’s what the universe offered as the only way we won, and I just made sure it was brought about!” He took another sip of whiskey to soothe his burning throat, but it made it worse, choking out his next words. “And I trusted Tony to steer things in the right direction while I was gone.”

“You misspoke, Stephen. You said ‘the only way we won’”, Wong pointed out, unperturbed by his outburst. “You mean the only way we won and Stark survived. There were other options, I know there were”, he snarled, patience lost as his voice hardened. “But you would do anything to have a chance at a life with Tony Stark, and your own selfish reasons left the multiverse without a Sorcerer Supreme for five years, Stephen! Five years! Do you have any idea the stress all of the masters were under protecting the multiverse without a Sorcerer Supreme?”

“Do you have any idea the stress I’m under as Sorcerer Supreme?!”, Stephen yelled, erupting up from his chair in a flurry of robes as he loomed over the other sorcerer, whiskey sloshing out onto the carpet this time. Deep down in the back of his rational mind, Stephen knew he sounded selfish, but the rage, pain, and alcohol were making every nerve in his body sizzle uncomfortably. “The sacrifices I have to make?! The time away from my family?! I give everything I have to the multiverse without any thanks, and it’s still not enough. I won’t-!”

“It’s not about you, Stephen”, Wong supplied calmly, and having the Ancient One’s last words to him thrown back in his face made Stephen want to throw up, though that might have just been the absurd amount of whiskey roiling in his otherwise empty stomach. He turned to the nearby window and raised the glass to his lips again, but didn’t take a drink, whirling around when Wong spoke again. “I know you care for Stark-.”

“I don’t _care_ for him, Wong”, the sorcerer sneered mockingly. “I _love_ him. There’s a difference. Not that you would know.” Wong didn’t even falter at his words, but by the way he blinked an extra time, Stephen knew that his words had cut deep and hit a chord. He regretted them immediately. 

“Because of him, you are no longer fit to be Sorcerer Supreme”, Wong stated calmly, robotically. All of his former rage and frustration was gone as he removed himself from his emotions and spit out the cold, hard facts for Stephen to face. “You must change your ways or step down, allow someone else without misconstrued morals to protect the multiverse.” Something about a sarcastically said ‘good moral compass’ flickered through Stephen’s mind at Wong’s words, but the whiskey didn’t let him hold onto any concrete thoughts for very long, the contents of his mind sloshing around as he tried his best to remain upright. 

“Fuck you, Wong”, Stephen slurred half-heartedly, not able to muster any heat behind his words despite how angry he was. He owed this man too much, Wong had saved his life countless times, been a friend to him when he had no one else, and he couldn’t bring himself to truly hate him even when Wong was attacking every insecurity he had, everything he loved. And with his world falling apart, Stephen couldn’t afford to lose the one person he could confide in. He swayed in place before gaining enough momentum to make it back to his chair, slouching into it bonelessly as he kept the empty glass cradled against his breastbone, eyes hazed over as he tried to focus on something in the middle distance.

“I’m sorry”, Stephen sighed finally after a prolonged silence that may as well have stretched centuries, his voice slurring heavily with exhaustion and grief. Alcohol always seemed to have that affect on his perception of time. “You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. I just…hate that you’re right.” Wong didn’t have any response to that but an acknowledging nod, nothing left to say, nothing to fix because they would always forgive one another, and there was nothing to be decided at the moment about the future of Stephen’s career. With the curse waining on the sorcerer’s body stronger than ever, Mordo seemed to be the only one with a say in who would be the Sorcerer Supreme in the near future.

*****

August 10th fell on a hot, peaceful Saturday at the lake house, the perfect setting for Peter’s 18th birthday. 

The day had started perfectly, in Peter’s opinion, as he had slept in after spending the night at the cabin (up until 2 am watching Star Wars with Tony), May and Happy on the pullout sofa in the den along for the sleepover as well. They had all shared a big family breakfast of eggs, bacon, and waffles decked out with as much whipped cream and M&Ms the kids could get away with under the Doc’s scrutinizing eye. The waffle-decorating had, of course, been Tony’s idea in the first place, leading to Morgan and Peter having a competition as to who could create the biggest stack of whipped cream and candy-laden waffles. Even Harley partook in decorating, though he clearly had a particular affinity for the chocolate sauce. 

After breakfast cleanup, the adults all congregated on the porch with mugs of coffee, talking amongst themselves while they watched the kids and Taj playing soccer. Peter was relieved that Tony hadn’t mentioned his nightmare from last night, the most commonly occurring one about Tony’s near death, something which probably hadn’t been helped by Peter stuffing himself full of Cheetos before falling asleep in front of the tv, head lolling on his dad’s shoulder. He’d woken them both up with his anguished whimpers, but Tony had quickly soothed him like he always did, blocking the fears out with his strong, warm embrace. The aftermath of kisses pressed against his hair and comforting shoulder squeezes had followed through until the next morning, and Peter had soaked up every little ounce of love he could get from his dad, but he didn’t mind leaving Tony’s side to play a round of soccer on the front lawn. 

Harley and Morgan were on one team, the twenty-two-year-old never taking a shot himself, but setting Morgan up for success as often as he could, while Peter tried to teach Taj how to headbutt the ball. The mutt’s attempts at nosing the soccer ball across the grass had become quite advanced since their first week of having him, as the large shepherd mix was even able to get the ball past Harley and through the goal posts of crocs and bundled up sweatshirts, even tripping him up a few times. Peter laughed with glee at the older boy’s stumble, though he always offered him a hand to help pull him to his feet, which Harley took after a few reluctant scowls. Playing soccer with his pseudo siblings certainly wasn’t a test of his skill, especially with his enhanced reflexes, but it was joyous in its simplistic fun, and there was no other way that he would rather spend his birthday. Once Harley had tripped for a fifth time, this time on the ball as he tried not to crash into Morgan, the twenty-two-year old was on his back in the grass in a fit of giggles as Morgan sat on his chest and did her best to tickle him, encouraging Taj who was licking and snuffling at the boy’s face excitedly, tail wagging at the sound of Harley’s exuberant laughter. 

Peter sent an excited glance in the direction of the porch to see if the adults had noticed the endearing scene playing out, but his smile fell as he noticed Tony and the Doc in somber conversation, the sorcerer’s deep timbre an undercurrent to Harley’s joyous laughter. Peter had noticed some unspoken tension between his dads in the past week, though he had written it off as exhaustion on the Doc’s part and residual anxiety on Tony’s, but maybe it was more than that if they were letting their personal issues slip in front of company. Though Peter supposed that he, May, and Happy were hardly company when they were much closer to family. Still, his stomach dipping in concern, Peter was driven with the need to remedy the serious air that had fallen over the porch, recruiting Morgan to go convince the adults down to the lawn for a game of soccer. Of course, no one could resist her pleading hazel eyes, especially not Happy despite his grumblings about their questionable choice of such a rowdy game after their big breakfast. 

The teams remained the same, with the addition of May and Tony joining Harley and Morgan’s side, while the Doc and Happy partnered with Peter and Taj, with Levi acting as a more than enthusiastic referee. It was what Peter hoped was an accidental arrangement of spouse versus spouse, though he supposed the teams were more even this way, determined not to let his anxiety ruin his birthday. The game started off a bit slowly, everyone being a little more gentle than usual for Morgan’s sake, but she was more than used to her brothers’ rough and tumble play, and Tony’s competitive streak quickly riled things up. The engineer had made the executive decision to guard the former body guard, making all such teasing references to Happy’s past career as he would jokingly shove him, then dancing around the larger man with surprisingly fast foot work once the ball was in his possession. At first, Happy refused to take the bait, making half-hearted attempts to guard the net or steal the ball from Tony, but there was only so long anyone could stand Tony’s playful jeers and loving teasing. Things truly took a competitive turn once Happy managed to steal the ball in a fit of frustration at Tony’s show-off moves, May and Peter cheering him on as he made a goal, despite May being on the opposite team. 

Morgan was given her fair share of chances at a shot on net, as everyone slowed down and controlled their movements while she scored for her team, though she was also perfectly content to run along the sidelines beside Taj and cheer on her teammates, particularly Harley, prompting a bright grin from the twenty-two-year-old which he didn’t even attempt to hide.

Tony’s response was a particularly exuberant attack when Peter had the ball next, dodging and trying to swipe the ball from the teen’s feet, almost tripping him in the process if not for Peter’s enhanced reflexes. Controlling the ball was difficult as Peter giggled uncontrollably, trying to push Tony back as his dad tickled his sides, not holding back as he shoved the teen playfully to try and unbalance him. Peter nearly relinquished control by falling flat on his face, but managed to kick the ball away with a screeched, “Doc! Help!”, aiming the ball at the sorcerer who was standing nearby, completely open as May was distracted by Taj’s excited barking. 

Peter was more than surprised when the Doc failed to trap the ball with his foot, the ball shooting past him and it would have rolled all the way into the lake if not for Taj chasing after it, nudging it away from the shoreline. Peter scrambled to his feet, giving the sorcerer a concerned look and asking if he was alright, to which the Doc of course insisted he was, but Peter had kicked the ball around on the lawn with the sorcerer enough times to know that it wasn’t a lack of skill that had made him miss that pass. Peter was tempted to push the matter, for once, as he had noticed something distinctly off about the Doc all week, enough to make his senses tingle dangerously, but was distracted by the sound of cheering as May made a shot on their net. The teen decided he could afford to drop the minor incident, at least for now, but made sure to give the sorcerer a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder before they resumed the game. 

No one had really been keeping score up until that moment, but Tony announced that the first team to gain three points won the game, resulting in a mad scramble of laughing, sportsman-like teasing, and playful shoving. Even Happy got into it when Morgan started cheering him on, though he was no match for when May and Tony both teamed up on him, the engineer kicking the ball to Harley, who scored to gain their winning point, and the twenty-two-year-old scooped Morgan up on his shoulders, running around the lawn in celebration as she giggled with glee. Everyone congratulated each other on a game well played, though frankly it had all been a bit chaotic, everyone but Peter pausing to catch their breath in the humid afternoon. 

A cooling swim in the lake was only inevitable as Peter challenged Harley to see who could get in the water first, the older boy handing Morgan over to their dad before racing him down the dock. Peter dove off the end into the refreshing water while Harley tucked into a cannonball, nearly hitting the teen as he crashed into the water, drenching Peter as he sputtered to the surface. 

“You almost killed me, Keener!”, Peter yelled in mock indignation, swatting water at the older boy while Harley pushed back his mop of hair with a devilish grin. 

“Ah, quit being a wuss, Parker. Dad, you’re raising a wuss, did you know that?!”, Harley called jokingly to Tony, who was helping Morgan strap her life jacket on. 

“I’m well aware! Petey-pie, quit being a pansy, you’re embarrassing me in front of the wizard!”, Tony called back, chuckling at Peter’s offended yelp as the engineer entered the water fully clothed, beckoning Morgan in after him as she jumped into his arms with a splash and an excited squeal. With his own devious plans to get Harley back later, Peter noticed his aunt and uncle bickering playfully at the end of the dock, May grinning brightly as she laughed, making a show of attempting to push Happy into the water. May was obviously no physical match for the former bodyguard, but a strategically placed kiss was enough to throw Happy off balance, letting May push him into the water and put an end to his sulky grumblings about swimming while fully clothed. May jumped in right after him, arms wrapped around his neck as she gave him another kiss for being a good sport, before she swam out to to join Tony and Morgan. Peter couldn’t help the stupid grin making its way across his face at seeing his aunt so happy and in love, the happiest he had seen her since before they lost Ben. The thought made the teen’s eyes prickle with tears, but he was distracted by the sound of splashing and giggling, turning to see Morgan practicing swimming between Tony, May and Happy, safe in a triangle of protective arms and encouraging smiles. 

This only left a certain sorcerer yet to join them in the refreshing cool of the lake, and Peter swam dutifully over to the end of the dock where the Doc was sitting cross legged in a meditative pose, eyes closed as a slight breeze ruffled his hair. Peter noticed that Levi was resting on the sorcerer’s shoulders, which was unusual if of itself since the relic was usually extremely nervous about the kids being around water, hovering around them protectively at a short distance. 

“Hey, Dad”, Peter said carefully, treading water as he grabbed the edge of the dock, looking up at his father figure with concern. He could practically feel the unrest rippling through the sorcerer’s usually steady frame, the yellowing battle bruises on his face adding to the pinched, haunted expression on his sharp face. “You okay?” Stephen blinked his eyes open at the simple question, clearly thrown off his guard, and he didn’t hide it as well as he usually did. 

“I’m alright, spiderling”, he soothed, crow’s feet crinkling and grey eyes softening at Peter’s question. “Still just a little under the weather from inter dimensional travel, but I’ll be fine. You just go enjoy yourself, okay?” Peter didn’t believe him for a second, staring back up at the sorcerer with a discerning gaze. He couldn’t pinpoint what was the matter, but his sixth sense was going haywire insisting that there was _something_ distinctly wrong. 

“If you weren’t okay, you’d tell one of us, right?””, Peter asked, keeping his voice low and steady, watching as the Doc tensed up, broad shoulders stiff as a board.

“Peter”, he warned softly. “I’ll admit I’m dealing with a lot right now, and thank you for your concern, but I promise I can handle it.” Peter sighed softly to himself, glancing over his shoulder to where the rest of their family were swimming out to the raft halfway between the dock and the opposite shore. He knew he wasn’t going to win a verbal argument with the sorcerer, instead reaching out to grip Stephen’s left wrist, meeting his eyes resolutely.

“Ask for help if you need it”, Peter reminded him, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze, fingers wrapped around the sorcerer’s tattoo that was a reminder of this one in fourteen million reality that they were lucky enough to call theirs, and something distinctly vulnerable passed behind Stephen’s eyes before the teen let go of his wrist, swimming off towards the raft. 

Once all three kids had gotten tired of jumping off the raft, Peter and Harley making a competition of it as usual while Taj punctuated each backflip and cannonball with his concerned barks, Tony asked the birthday boy what he’d like for them to do next, all swimming back to the dock when the teen suggested a paddle around the lake. Peter noticed that the Doc had disappeared from the end of the dock as they approached it, eyes darting around in panic before he saw that the sorcerer had just relocated to the porch swing, his enhanced vision picking up Jarvis’ presence on the sorcerer’s lap even at such a distance. Tony seemed to noticed at the same time, a pained grimace on his face as he hauled Morgan out of the water, telling her to stay with Happy while he went to talk to his partner. Peter kept his eyes respectfully averted while he and Harley went to the boat shed in companionable silence, his wet t shirt clinging to his body and sending a shiver up his spine despite the humid morning. They did their best to ignore the sound of Tony’s voice raising slightly while they gathered the paddles and life vests, the sorcerer’s responding hushed baritone followed by silence then the sound of footsteps pounding down the front porch steps, and Tony came into the boat shed a moment later, all too bright grins and unusual brusqueness as he hoisted one of the kayaks over his head and carried it out to the dock. 

“Hey”, Harley said almost gently in the dim light of the shed once he noticed Peter’s distraught expression. “They never fight, you know. It had to happen sooner than later.” The teen just shook his head, feeling colder than ever as he lifted the other kayak over his head and followed their dad.

“No it didn’t.”

Stephen had elected to sit out on their excursion, and Peter could see how Tony was quietly hurt by his decision, the pinched brow and guilty expression on his face making him look like he’d done something wrong to cause the sorcerer’s aloof behaviour. Despite this, Tony managed to keep up his usual cheery disposition as he got balanced on his paddle board that he usually took out on quiet mornings, and Morgan’s tangible excitement was more than contagious, chattering excitedly as Happy lifted her off the dock and nestled her comfortably in the middle of the canoe while he and May paddled. Peter would admit to himself only that he was secretly crushed by the Doc’s decision to exclude himself from their family on the teen’s birthday of all days, but he couldn’t hold too much of a grudge as he realized, unlike Tony, that is was nothing personal, but there was clearly some underlying problem that the sorcerer was refusing to share with them. Peter was determined to get to the bottom of it while also enjoying his birthday, taking in a deep lungful of fresh lake air as he pushed off sideways from the dock, he and Harley in twin kayaks as they surged ahead of the rest of the group. An impromptu race between the two boys to the end of the peninsula in the middle of the lake was a welcome distraction from the missing piece of their family unit, Peter’s entire body warming with a small taste of joyful freedom and the hot sun on his back, drying his clothes in the process. The quick race was an easy win for the enhanced teen, Harley’s endeavour to strength train since January still no match for altered DNA, but his loss certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. 

“Fuck you and your spider tingle, Parker”, Harley wheezed as he leaned over the front of his kayak, grinning at the teen playfully as he brushed his still-damp blond hair back with one hand.

“I’m never going to forgive May for starting that”, Peter laughed, pivoting his kayak 180 degrees as he reached the Point, looking back to see that the rest of their family was only halfway down the lake, the canoe making its steady way across the glittering azure water. Tony meanwhile, was closer to shore as he glided past the reeds and cattails in the more shallow water, and he looked so profoundly lonely for a moment that it made Peter’s heart ache. 

“Quit worrying about him, Peter”, Harley said not unkindly, interjecting the teen’s troubled thoughts with his easy drawl, pulling his own kayak up beside Peter’s. “They’ve been through the worst shit the universe could throw at anyone. Whatever this little spat is isn’t gonna hurt ‘em.” The older boy sounded so certain in his own observations that Peter was almost inclined to believe him, but he shook his head stubbornly. 

“No. There’s something really wrong. I’ve never seen the Doc like this.”

“They’re not gonna split up, Parker.” Peter flinched as Harley voiced his exact fears so casually. Yes, May had been his rock since he was a little kid, but he had come to rely on these two men nearly as much, and it physically pained him to see them any less than perfectly happy. 

“How do you know?”, he croaked, his voice barely audible above the lapping of waves against the plastic hulls of their kayaks. 

“I just do”, Harley said self-assuredly, though a slight waiver in his voice showed that he wasn’t as bomb proof as he alluded to being. He leaned back in his kayak with his hands behind his head as a cover up for the quick lapse in his impenetrable armour, watching their family draw closer as they waited for them to catch up. “I’ve watched a marriage fall apart, Parker, and this ain’t it.” Peter blinked as he turned to face the older boy, though Harley stared ahead resolutely, blue eyes stormy and looking as though he severely regretted revealing that information. 

“What?”

Harley sighed, threading a hand through his hair in agitation. “I just mean…you can’t get all freaked out just ‘cause they’re havin’ a rough spell. Being partners with someone ain’t all sunshine and roses. You’ll figure that out once you and your girl get past the honeymoon stage.” Peter squirmed at little at the twenty-two-year-old’s honesty, but clung to his words in anticipation of something that could give him hope. “‘M just saying that we’ve all had it rough this past year, but I’d say they’ve done pretty alright by us. And each other.” Peter blinked again, barely believing that he’d just heard something so mature come out of the usually distant and aloof boy’s mouth.

“Harley, that’s really-.”

“Don’t”, Harley snapped, splashing Peter playfully with his paddle. “Don’t you dare get all mushy on me, spider boy. Living with y’all has already ruined my reputation. And now I’m gonna have to show my face at school this year with everyone knowin’ I’m practically related to the biggest nerd on Earth.”

“What reputation?”, Peter asked teasingly, a wide grin spreading across his face despite Harley’s half-hearted insult. “Your reputation of walking around campus looking like a crackhead?” Harley responded with a quick splash with his paddle, and the two boys were drenched again by the time the rest of their family reached them. 

———

After a trip around the entire shoreline of the lake, everyone was more than ready for lunch by the time they got back to the cabin, pleasantly surprised upon their return to find that Stephen had the picnic table on the front lawn covered in a spread of fresh spring rolls, chicken sesame noodles, and homemade lemonade. The sorcerer’s obvious apology was enough to earn a grateful, chaste kiss from Tony, everyone else thanking him profusely as they settled at the picnic table in their usual spots, Peter wedged between his dads on one side of the table, and Morgan safely seated between her aunt and uncle on the other, and Harley at the head of the table on a camping chair, free to sprawl as he tended to. Peter hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started eating, expressing his approval of the spring rolls several times, even prompting a grin from the sorcerer in doing so. The Doc’s taste in cuisine couldn’t have been anymore different from Tony’s, with obvious Asian influences in the dishes he prepared for his family, though he tended to not subject them to the more strict, culturally-appropriate lactovegetarian Hindu diet he followed while at Kamar Taj, not unless they asked to try some. Regardless, once Peter hadn’t gotten accustomed to the different way of eating, he now found himself craving the Doc’s pad thai more often than not. It was a different kind of comfort food than burgers and pizza, but it was comfort food nonetheless. 

After lunch, everyone stayed seated around the picnic table after retrieving their gifts for Peter, waiting for Tony and May to dish up bowls of gelato which they ate while the teen somewhat bashfully opened his first gift. Tony had already shown Peter the suit upgrades he had prepared for him, but insisted that that wasn’t really a proper gift, and the teen threw his arms around his dad’s neck when he saw the Taylor Swift concert tickets he and the Doc had gotten for him. Harley looked embarrassed about relinquishing his gift after Tony’s grandiose gesture, but Peter was blown away by the custom Heelys the older boy had designed and made for him, listening to his thoughtful explanation that he thought it would be a faster way to get around the MIT campus in the fall, and slightly easier to navigate with compared to his rollerblades. Peter had to hold himself back from embracing the twenty-two-year-old, until Morgan piped in that the Heelys were from her as well because she had helped with the red and blue paint job, so Peter was able to give the hug to her instead. May and Happy’s gift ended up being even bigger than Tony’s, a family trip to Europe in December to help make up for what had happened in July, and Peter ignored the former bodyguard’s gentle grumblings as he hugged them both. 

They were just finishing their gelato when Peter felt more than heard the familiar tearing of a gateway opening through the fabric of the universe, shooting the Doc a confused glance before spinning around on the bench as he was met with the sight of MJ, Ned, and Shuri walking through a golden ring of magic. To the teen’s surprise, Bruce and Thor followed through after his friends, though their presence only peaked his excitement (always looking forward to a chance at picking the physicist’s brain about theories on biological advancement studies), and finally Wong trailed them through the gateway, looking a little more than irritated at being used as a taxi cab. 

“I hope you don’t mind us interrupting your birthday celebration, Man of Spiders”, Thor asked rather politely in his booming voice, looking endearingly large and brash in comparison to Bruce as the physicist gave them all an awkward but friendly wave. Peter supposed opposites attract. Take the Doc and Tony for example. “We have a bone to pick with this one about not being invited in the first place”, the demigod said teasingly, pointing at Tony who had risen from his seat to greet them.

“Look at you two party crashers. What the heck are you doing here?”, Tony asked with a more than welcoming grin, arms wide as he pulled them each in turn into a warm hug.

“Nedward!”, Peter called excitedly, not bothering to listen to Thor’s response, nearly falling flat on his face as he stumbled his way over the picnic table bench and charged towards his best friend in a headlong rush to meet him in a hug. 

“Petesicle!”, Ned greeted, pulling back from their embrace to smush the teen’s cheeks between both his hands, inspecting his face with faux scrutiny. “My god you look so old! Eighteen. You’re practically ancient. A grandpa. Doesn’t he look older, MJ?” Peter’s cheeks flushed terribly under Ned’s palms as his girlfriend gave him an adoring smirk.

“I’d say he looks pretty good for a grandpa.” Ned relinquished his hold on his best friend’s face and stepped back to allow MJ to give him a quick peck, making Peter feel a little giddy and lightheaded in the process. 

“Hellooo, lovebirds”, Shuri interrupted loudly, playful nudging Ned out of the way. “Move, please. I need to give my boy a birthday hug.

“Good to see you too, Princess”, Peter mocked playfully, receiving a rightfully earned smack on the head as Shuri crushed his ribs in her strong grip.

“That’s ‘Queen’ to you, isigcawu inkwenkwe”, Shuri beamed, pulling back to tell him about how it had taken her nearly an hour to explain the ‘what are those?’ vine to T’Challa, complaining about how her big brother appreciated her tech, but couldn’t even bother to remain knowledgeable on even decades old meme culture.

“I’ll bet you fifty bucks that the Doc is worse when it comes to memes. But we gotta try that on my dad later, he’s got the worst pair of fluorescent orange crocs, but he’ll actually get the reference”, Peter laughed, nothing MJ and Harley in a tense standoff out of the corner of his eye. 

“Keener”, MJ greeted with a raised brow, arms crossed as she gave the lanky blond her signature unimpressed squint.

“Jones”, Harley sneered back, though playfully as his lop-sided slouch alluded to the fact that he was actually pretty relaxed around his pseudo brother’s girlfriend. Despite this, Peter would rather avoid any unnecessary tension.

“Heyyyy, how’s about we all go for a swim? What do you say, guys?”, Peter suggested, looping an arm carefully around MJ’s shoulders in an attempt to lead her towards the dock.

“Whatever. Good idea, spider baby. It’s hot as snot anyway”, Harley shrugged, meandering his way down to the water. 

“Spider baby?”, Ned snickered, and Peter shot him a murderous glance.

“Are you kidding me?”, Shuri asked, even as she followed them all down to the dock. “You guys want to go swimming in this kind of weather? This is like winter in my country!” Ned decided to further freak the Wakandan princess out by prompting her to imagine how cold a winter in Canada would be, earning a disgusted shriek at the very idea. 

“You guys are overreacting, Canada can’t be _that_ much colder than here”, Peter laughed as he pulled his t shirt off, still in his shorts that double as swim trunks, stopping dead as he noticed Harley staring quizzically at his chest. “Keener, what’s wrong? Do I have soy sauce on my-?” 

That’s when Peter remembered, cheeks flushing as he quickly crossed his arms over his chest, gaze automatically darting to Ned with fear and a silent plea of ‘help me’. Tony had mentioned earlier to Peter that he’d willingly keep his own t shirt on in solidarity while swimming if Peter didn’t want to expose his top scars in front of everybody, but Peter had thanked him with a cheek kiss, insisting that he was completely fine with going shirtless. But only now did he realize that he hadn’t gone shirtless around Harley much, and the older boy had obviously never looked close enough to notice the twin half moon scars on his lower chest. MJ now knew about his top scars and everything that came with them, of course, but Ned had known Peter since before he transitioned, had been there with him for every step of the way, and had been the teen’s main source of transphobe repellant over the years. Ned immediately stepped forward to stand beside Peter, creating a physical barrier between Harley’s curious expression and his best friend’s chest. 

“Hey, quit staring, man”, Ned warned, though Harley was the type of person that he’d usually be nervous about breathing around in different circumstances. 

“I’m not staring”, Harley snapped, immediately defensive, though his eyes flickered to where MJ and Shuri were watching him warily. “I was just kinda wondering what those scars were.”

“Wait”, Peter said, everything clicking into place as he put a sedating hand on Ned’s shoulder, though still wary in case Harley was yanking his chain. “You honestly don’t know what they are?”

Harley shook his head sheepishly. “No, I honestly don’t know.” The twenty-two-year-old looked around at the four of them, clearly bewildered as to why he was being ganged up on. “Why are you guys making such a big deal out of it?”, he asked, blue eyes wide with something near innocence, though Shuri and Ned scoffed in contempt at his ignorance. 

“Guys, it’s okay”, Peter soothed as he uncrossed his arms from in front of his chest, trusting that his pseudo brother wasn’t mocking him, especially after their talk on the lake that morning. “Um, Harley, do you know what a trans person is?”

“Yeah?”, Harley squinted, still in bewilderment, clearly not connecting the dots yet. 

“Okay, so, I’m trans. And these are my top surgery scars”, Peter explained calmly and simply, gesturing to his chest without shame. This was who he was and if Harley had a problem with that, he had a lifelong best friend, a protective girlfriend with a love for murder and horror novels, and a Wakandan warrior princess to back him up. But from the look on the older boy’s face, there wasn’t going to be any need to start a squabble. 

“Oh”, Harley said, blinking a few times as understanding visibly washed over him. Peter could practically see hours of past, secret Google research being sifted through in the twenty-two-year-old’s brain, and he was suddenly immensely proud of his brother, no matter who he turned out to be. No one had ever verbally alluded to such, but he knew that Harley and the Doc had had many a private conversation, and there was just something about the reserved kid from rural Tennessee that screamed ‘in the closet’. 

“I get it”, Harley affirmed with a nod, looking apologetic and uncertain as he scuffed his bare foot against the dock. “So…we’re cool?”

Peter nodded with a warm grin, gently clapping a hand on the taller boy’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. We’re cool.”

After that, it wasn’t hard to forget about his scars completely, as the midday heat drove the adults to join them in the lake soon afterwards, and there was no shortage of visible scaring among Peter’s friends and family. The most obvious were Tony’s Snap scars, of course, though the engineer had gotten more comfortable with swimming shirtless around only his closest family and friends, and Peter realized how good it felt to see his dad carefree and confident, floating on an inner tube with his shades on as he yelled out scores for the kids’ diving competition off the raft. Then there was Bruce who had his own Snap scars, Thor with a myriad of battle scars which he wore proudly on his arms and torso, even comparing old heat burns with Shuri, and Morgan had her tiny appendicitis surgery scar on her lower stomach. Happy even endeavoured to swim shirtless after a whispered boost of confidence from May, an assortment of smaller jagged scars littered across his chest after the accidental Extremis bombing back in 2013. In contrast to the proud acknowledgement of other people’s permanent marks of their past, there were some scars that were never mentioned, such as the short, parallel ones on MJ’s wrists, or the dark, circular ones scattered across Harley’s upper back like burning black stars. But their family was one of support and acceptance no matter what, loving all bodies and imperfections unconditionally, and Peter wouldn’t have it any other way. 

*****

Tony found himself silently stewing over a glass of iced coffee, sitting haphazardly on the picnic table bench while he watched his partner with mixed feelings in his chest. Just like that morning, Stephen had silently refused to go swimming with them after lunch, instead laying on the hammock while wrapped up inside Levi’s protective embrace. Once Morgan had gotten tired of jumping off the end of the dock over and over (under Happy’s watchful eye), the sorcerer had endeavoured to bring her inside and get her changed into her favourite space-themed tights and a cozy sweater as the temperature dropped towards nightfall, falling asleep for a late afternoon nap on Stephen’s chest once he had laid back down on the hammock with her. It was an endearing sight, really, the little girl dwarfed by the sorcerer’s large arms cradling her while she snuggled against his broad chest, and Stephen looked peaceful and ethereal with his eyes closed, Levi still cocooning them both. 

Tony’s heart softened as he watched them for who knows how long, while everyone else began preparations for dinner (the teenagers lounging on the sun-drenched dock), reminded of why he was so hopelessly in love with this man. It wasn’t that Tony wasn’t sympathetic to the sorcerer not feeling well (of course he would understand that Stephen didn’t want to go swimming if he felt under the weather), it was the fact that Stephen adamantly refused to actually confide in him. He knew the sorcerer who he shared a soul with better than anyone else in the world, and it tore him apart not being able to help his partner when he was clearly in so much pain. Like the good doctor had said himself countless times, Tony was a nurturer, he did best when he was taking care of others, and now the most important person in his life was outright _refusing_ his caring, generous ways. It rubbed Tony the wrong way, wondering where all the trust in their relationship had gone. 

Making lunch for everyone had been a sweet gesture, but it still didn’t fix the underlying issue: Stephen was keeping something from him. Neither of them had said it outright, but they didn’t need to. It was explicitly clear that their was something significantly disturbing going on with the sorcerer, yet he was stubbornly maintaining the facade that everything was fine, and the only reason Tony was playing along with that facade (for now) was that he wasn’t about to ruin Peter’s birthday with their bickering.

He mulled over how different Stephen had been since he got back from dimension 3,247, wishing he could get back the sorcerer he’d had before he had left on that mission over a month ago. It was then that Tony abruptly realized with a pit of dread in his stomach that he was thinking exactly like Pepper, that he was reacting as she had to his changed body and mind after his Snap, and he immediately welled up with tears. _How could he be so blind and selfish? How could he be so judgmental of the man who had given him everything, given him another chance at life?_ He watched his hus- boyfriend (_fuck_, he wanted to marry him so badly) sleeping peacefully with their daughter in his arms, the engineer’s chest aching with desperate helplessness, wishing he could hold Stephen like that and get him to confess his troubles, to break down and not be the stoic Sorcerer Supreme he always insisted on being. Tony’s mind next ventured to what devastating tragedy had befell the sorcerer in that alien dimension that had affected him so deeply, his heart aching, while his entire stomach clenched with worry and sympathetic pain. 

Tony decided it would be best to not dwell on that for now, heaving himself up from the picnic table and wandering inside to make sure dinner prep was going according to plan, though May had certainly taken charge of things. He walked into the kitchen to be met by the sight of May Parker, in all her 5’5” power, directing the two large men around, showing Thor how to chop vegetables with a paring knife, while Bruce stood on the sidelines watching somewhat fearfully. Tony chuckled as he wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, saving him from May’s scrutinizing gaze as they dug in the pantry for a few bottles of wine and a sparkling apple juice.

He hadn’t been worried about Thor and Bruce dropping by unannounced (though Bruce was endlessly apologetic), as Peter not-so-secretly iodized the physicist, and both men had proven themselves to still be Tony’s trustworthy friends in the past four weeks alone. It had almost felt like old times, but better, when the three of them had spent many productive but banter-filled nights in Wakanda working on Tony’s inter dimensional tracker (often with Shuri’s guidance), a welcome distraction from the fact that his wizard wasn’t even in the same dimension. And now he was certainly glad to have two extra sets of hands in the kitchen, the five of them sitting around, talking, laughing, and preparing dinner while sipping at wine, though Tony felt distinctly alone without his wizard by his side to share the moment. 

The gods of good timing decided to be on Tony’s side that evening as he was sent out side to man the barbecue with Thor at the same time that Stephen came inside with Morgan in his arms, purposefully avoiding the sorcerer’s gaze as Thor helped him carry out the various assortment of meat destined to be grilled. it was good to catch up with the demigod one-on-one for a while, watching the kids lounging and talking on the dock in the golden glow of the setting sun while they discussed everything from their favourite type of wine to the progress they had made on the inter dimensional tracker during their last session in Wakanda. They talked for who knows how long while monitoring the burgers and sausages on the grill, interrupted by Bruce’s sudden appearance on the front porch, as the physicist made pointed, mischievous eye contact with the God of Thunder. 

“You’re needed in the kitchen”, Bruce explained to him a little too cheerfully, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss against his boyfriend’s cheek. “May wants to talk to you. Something about there being too much wine in the salad dressing.”

“Fairly certain that woman was a Valkyrie in another life”, Thor muttered in concern, resigned to his fate as he trudged up the porch steps, almost colliding with Morgan as she came bursting through the screen door, newly braided pigtails flying (which were either May or Stephen’s doing). 

“Sorry, Thor!”, she squeaked out as she narrowly avoided the demigod’s croc-clad feet, and Tony wondered with a pounding heart why his daughter had to be so much like him sometimes. “Daddy? Aunty May says the topato salad is ready. She said hurry up with the burgers”, she informed him dutifully while clutching to his pant leg, the other hand occupied by her designated bug catching net. 

“Hey, Moguna, thank you, my good girl”, Tony grinned, ruffling her hair gently as he realized that, while absolutely enraptured by Thor, Morgan hadn't had much of a chance to interact with his other former colleague and close friend. “Remember Uncle Bruce? You met him at the Wakanda hospital where they made Daddy better.”

“Hi”, Morgan greeted with a shy smile before hiding her face against her dad’s leg, and Tony brushed his good hand through her hair as a silent source of comfort.

“Hey, Morgan. It’s good to see you again. I really like your butterfly net”, Bruce smiled, voice gentle as he crouched down on her level. 

“It’s for firefwies”, Morgan corrected, less shy now that her interest had been piqued. “Don’t want to hurt butterpies.”

“Oh, wow. Fireflies”, Bruce said appreciatively, raising his brows in awe. “Yeah, you’re right. You don’t want to hurt butterflies, they’re very delicate. You’ll have to show me some fireflies later though, when it gets dark.”

“Okay!”, Morgan agreed excitedly, letting go of her grip around Tony’s leg as she scampered off to join Taj in searching for frogs at the edge of the lake. 

“‘Uncle’?”, Bruce asked in disbelief, brow furrowed a little in gentle bewilderment as he stood from his crouched position, giving Tony that quizzical, almost puppy-eyed look he knew so well. 

“Yeah, of course”, Tony grinned easily, heart warm with the feeling that this development was the right one. “We’ve been through it all, Brucie-bear, and you’ve never given up on me or stabbed me in the back, not like some no-good sons of bitches I _could_ mention, but I won’t. You might as well be my brother.” He turned to meet his friend’s dark brown eyes with a raised brow, the physicist clearly overcome with emotion at his words. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure I am”, Bruce smiled, a real, genuine, easy smile that was hard to get out of him most days. “I wouldn’t mind being an honorary Stark.” Tony gave him a gentle shoulder squeeze before the physicist mentioned that he better go save Thor from May’s wrath. The screen door closed quietly behind him, and Tony checked that Morgan was still contently hunting frogs on the lakeshore before he heard the screen door open again.

“Did she kick you out already, Brucie?”, Tony beamed as he looked over his shoulder, caught off guard as his smile fell a little when he saw that it was Stephen who had come out onto the porch instead. “We’re not doing this in front of company, Doc”, Tony said as he turned back to the grill, watching the the sorcerer cautiously sidling up to him out of the corner of his good eye.

“Anthony, please”, Stephen pleaded in a hushed voice, approaching the engineer with his hands spread wide almost desperately, and Tony’s heart almost cracked in pained sympathy. “Why are you suddenly giving me the cold shoulder? I told you earlier that I sat out on paddle boarding because I wasn’t feeling well.”

“I know when you’re lying to me”, Tony snapped under his breath as he flipped the burgers onto a plate from the griddle, sick of hearing those same words despite his earlier epiphany. He whipped around to look up at the sorcerer with dark eyes full of heartbroken grief, and he could see the hurt in those silvery indigo eyes that he loved so much. That was fine. He was hurting too. His heart of hearts barely dared to hope that this wouldn’t be the betrayal that proved to be his breaking point, turning on his heel with the plate of burgers in hand before Stephen had the chance to respond. 

———

Dinner was an absolute mess of delicious food, as the picnic table was nearly covered with burgers, sausages, potato salad, Greek salad, homemade sweet potato fries, barbecue grilled corn, and fresh maple-glazed carrots and beets from the garden. Cheesecake with fresh strawberry sauce was for dessert, and Tony had managed to avoid the sorcerer’s apologetic gaze until that point, their hands brushing together as Tony handed out plates of sliced cake, though the engineer averted his gaze just as quickly. He couldn’t give in and forgive Stephen so quickly when he was still refusing to confide in him. 

The sun had set fully by the time they were finished dinner, a peaceful dusk setting over the lake and the darkening purple-grey sky as Harley and Thor got a bonfire going, while Bruce and Morgan went firefly hunting, and everyone else did a quick after-dinner cleanup. Even the strongest-willed person wouldn't have been able to resist Morgan’s pleas to make s’mores, though Tony wasn’t quite sure where she was getting her appetite, as he personally felt like he was about to burst after their massive dinner stacked on top of all the other special birthday meals they’d eaten that day. But then Peter joined Morgan in begging their dad for s’mores ingredients (Tony knew that the teen had a never ending appetite with his enhanced metabolism), and he certainly couldn’t withstand the influence of two sets of big, brown eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

Tony almost felt perfectly at peace with his family surrounding him (with the exception of Rhodey, who was away for work), enjoying the camaraderie of his closest friends as they all sat on camping chairs and log benches surrounding the thunderous fire that Thor and Harley had lit, swapping stories and bags of marshmallows. Harley helped Morgan roast her marshmallow to perfection, while Peter fell into a minor sugar coma after inhaling five s’mores. Now he was curled up sleepily on his dad’s lap, cheek pressed against Tony’s chest as he snuggled against his body warmth and the softness of the cable knit sweater and oversized flannel the engineer had pulled on as the night chill surrounded them. Tony kissed his kid’s forehead sympathetically, scarcely able to believe that this same boy was the same scared fifteen year old he had met in Queens eight years ago, nostalgia make his chest ache pleasantly as he ran a gentle hand through Peter’s curls. After letting Peter sleep off the worst of his sugar overload, Tony prompted the teen to his feet and directed him as to where the tent was stored in the basement. They had planned ahead for Peter’s friends staying the night, and decided that a large tent outside would be the best course of action, a coincidentally wise decision now that Thor and Bruce would be taking the pullout sofa in the basement for the night.

While the teens giggled and bickered playfully while struggling to put up the tent, darkness had fallen over their bonfire completely, stars glittered brightly overhead as Tony noticed that Stephen had a little ways from the fire and laid on the grass with Morgan, using Levi as a blanket once more while he pointed out constellations to her. Tony could hear his daughter’s sweet, little voice asking questions about the stars over the comforting hum of conversation circling the fire, to which Stephen would always reply patiently, and the engineer softened at the sight. More than anything, he wanted to walk over and lay down beside them, but figured that would be hypocritical after the silent treatment he’d been giving the sorcerer all evening. Still, denying himself their company made the engineer’s heart ache, staring into the fire stubbornly, excusing himself from the bonfire as he went to help Shuri who had her hair tangled in one of the tent guy lines. 

Once Tony had saved Shuri and helped the boys (MJ was the most competent of the group) in securing the rain cover over the tent, the engineer made his way back to bonfire to find that Morgan had abandoned her stargazing post in exchange for laying sprawled on top of the God of Thunder. Tony smiled warmly at the sight, noticing something unmistakably soft in Bruce’s eyes at seeing his boyfriend being so caring, while Thor seemed more than amused by the tiny human’s presence on his stomach, keeping one gently protective hand over her back while she snored quietly. 

“You’ve been replaced as favourite uncle, Hap. What are you gonna do with yourself now?”, Tony snickered, giving Happy a friendly swat on the shoulder on his way back to his chair, to which the former bodyguard scowled deeply while May gave his hand a reassuring pat. 

“And you’ve been replaced in terms of being her favourite napping spot”, Happy teased back, exchanging a knowing look with his oldest friend. “You’re gonna have to get a full time job now.”

“You have a point. Thor has made both of us obsolete. I mean, clearly he has the superior napping belly”, Tony chuckled, gesturing emphatically as if he were bestowing his crown over to the demigod. 

“If your daughter is anything like you, Tony, or your other offspring for that matter, I don’t think I could handle her for more than a day”, Thor chuckled, earning a chorus of agreement just as the teens made their way from the tent back to the bonfire, though Harley tripped on a marshmallow roasting stick and would have landed face first in the fire if not for Peter grabbing the back of his hoodie, thanks to the teen’s enhanced reflexes. It was in the commotion that Tony couldn’t help but notice the one person who remained quiet and still, turning his head to see Stephen wrapped in Levi while sitting on his, cracking Tony’s heart right in two at how forlorn he looked, half shrouded in darkness as he sat at the edge of the bonfire circle. Nothing could have stopped the engineer from standing from his own chair and walking over to settle carefully beside his boyfriend, wrapping an arm around his waist gently as he pulled him against his side. 

Stephen looked at him in wary surprise, and this hurt worse than anything, causing Tony to bite the inside of his cheek just so he could keep from tearing up. Stephen’s eyes were luminous pale green in the low firelight, looking at Tony like he was a mirage that might disappear at any moment. The recent gaunt look his features had acquired made Tony’s full stomach turn uncomfortably as he pulled the shivering sorcerer against his side a little more securely, hoping to give him some of his warmth, gold and crimson hand glinting in the firelight as he trailed silicon fingertips across his boyfriend’s stubbled jaw, noticing how he’d let his goatee become scruffy in the past week. Stephen never neglected his grooming and it rent an anxious tear in the centre of Tony’s chest.

This was the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with, the man he would marry, of that he was certain, and Tony knew that, whatever was going on with his partner right now, or whatever else life had to throw at them, they’d be able to face it together. His only job right now was to be as patient and supportive as Stephen had been with him since the day he ripped his soul in half for him, since those days in the Wakandan hospital physiotherapy centre when Tony could barely talk, since Tony had his cybernetic arm surgery and Stephen had sat through nine hours of being effectively paralyzed while Tony was under anesthesia, since Tony had spent months tugging the sorcerer’s heart back and forth before finally deciding to divorce Pepper, since the battle in Greenwich when Stephen had saved his life by flying the Iron Man suit for the first time, since Stephen had gotten him a cat for his birthday just so he wouldn’t be lonely when the sorcerer was away for work, since the countless nights they’d spent in the same bed before Tony finally opened up enough to show Stephen his scars, Stephen had soothed him out of dozens of anxiety attacks in the past fifteen months, since the sorcerer had given all of his love to Tony’s kids, and all of the countless precious moments in between. This was the sweetest, most caring, brave, capable, loving man Tony could ever have the privilege of loving, and he nothing, not even the multiverse, was going to tear them apart. 

“Tony?”, Stephen asked uncertainly, pulling Tony out of his reminiscing as his voice sounded small, questioning, and hopeful all at the same time, those sea glass eyes meeting Tony’s in the near darkness at the edge of the light the bonfire provided. 

“I love you no matter what”, Tony whispered like a promise, leaning up to press a steady, tender kiss against the sorcerer’s soft lips, fingers twining into the edge of the embroidered cloak to pull his man closer against him. Stephen immediately melted into his touch, like he’d been waiting for it all day, and Tony realized as hot tears prickled his eyes that he had squeezed shut, he had been waiting all day. Insurmountable guilt filled his chest, mixed with the fear of betrayal that had surfaced the second he realized the sorcerer was keeping something from him. 

“I love you too”, Stephen whispered back in relief when they pulled apart minutely, breathing each other’s air as silver eyes met Tony’s in hazy adoration. And that was all Tony needed to hear to know that they were going to be alright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it’s just because I haven’t been updating as regularly, but I haven’t been getting as many comments on recent chapters even though there’s been a lot going on story-wise. I’ve been feeling really insecure about my writing lately, so any comments would be greatly appreciated <3<3<3
> 
> If Stephen’s binge drinking as a coping mechanism seems out of nowhere, it’s not. I mentioned his alcoholic tendencies in chapter 19 (after the 14 million conversation/reveal, and Stephen thinking Tony was going to break up with him because of it) and the root of these habits in the last chapter.
> 
> (“That bad, eh?”, Stephen croaked out bitterly, though hope still clung to his voice like morning dew on a spider’s web, evaporating with the rising sun of probability.) I have never been so freaking proud of a single line of writing as I am of this one <3


End file.
